Frozen In time
by esentrik
Summary: Stephanie and Ranger both realize that Junkman is still alive. But, was their discovery too late?
1. Disclaimer

**I DONT OWN ANYTHING BUT THE PLOT. **You read that alot, but I have to say that again. My mother is convinced that I'm doing something illegal, so I want to make that loud and clear. This is just a story, so if anything offends you, grin and deal with it or find another story. I'm doing my best to keep my STEPHANIE and my RANGER as true to the books as I can get.

If you are a major STEPH/JOE fan, I advise you turn back now, because I know if you don't, I'll get a nasty email. I've done this enough times to know you all won't be happy.

No flames. Email me if there's a major problem and I'll deal with it. It's not hard to reach me, I have an opportunity to check my mail sparatically within the week. Other that that, happy reading and leave me a review!

Esentrik0


	2. He's WHAT!

Morelli and Ranger linked an arm around mine and pulled me to my feet. They both took a step back and I brushed myself off. Joe's face was whiter than a ghost, except for the thin scar slicing through his eyebrow. Ranger's eyes caught mine. Like usual, no fear what-so-ever. He managed a weak smile and folded his arms across his chest.

They both exchanged glances. "Where is she safest?" They're stares were asking.

Joe shrugged and said under his breath, "I don't care."

One of the blue-and-whites pulled me aside and sat me on the hood of a patrol car.

"You're buddy 'Sally' needs some help." He motioned through the windshield. Sally smiled and struggled in the cuffs.

"Sure, what's he need?" I said politely

"A shrink." The cop shrugged. "Anyway, I have a few routine questions to go through."

"Whatever you need, but you're going to let him go, right?"

"You really want him on the streets?"

Not really, but he had just saved my life, and what about all thoughts kids who wouldn't have a bus driver? There was a long pause. The cop sighed and looked down at his clip board. "It says here I have to ask you if the injured was armed, but lets make this easier. Who wasn't armed?"

"I was too scared to count bodies and who didn't have a gun."

"Reasonable. Can you name anyone?"

He balanced over to me. Sally and the band were higher than the clouds.

"Stephanie, Stephanie, Stephanie." He repeated, shaking his head. He licked his thumb and wiped my cheek. Ewww, a transvestite spit-bath!

I checked out my face in the squad side-mirror. Most of my mascara was smeared to my ears and my hair was a mess. I looked at Sally. He did the thumb-thing a few more times. I re-checked myself. Good enough.

I turned to check on Ranger and Joe. They were still talking, only they were both facing me. Both of their faces were sullen and emotion-less. Ghost-face turned to cop-face. I walked toward them, trying my best to pretend I wasn't scared. They stopped when I was within ear-shot. Damn men. All men. I smiled and they returned it. That's when I slipped on a crack in the pavement. I hoped to land on my knees. They were already bruised.

I stopped short. Ranger caught me and pulled me to my feet. Joe looked over and sat on the bench behind him. His head was shaking in his hands. Ranger led me and sat me down next to Joe.

"I'll bring your stuff by in the morning." He kissed me lightly on the head and glared at Joe, probably to see if he minded.

Joe waited till Ranger got into the Bronco. "He scared me. A lot"

Couldn't blame Joe. He knew that he wouldn't be able to protect me standing next to Ranger. He couldn't catch me fast enough. Ranger knew every detail of my next screw-ups. One of the cops came by and whispered something in Joe's ear. Joe got very still and very serious. He pointed at me like he dose to Bob, but didn't tell me to 'Stay'. I couldn't move, even if I wanted to.

Joe ran over to the bus. Sally backed it up and revealed Junkman in his whole wicked-ness. Joe turned to me and gave me a disturbing look. I got up, but he waved me back down. He unclipped his cell phone and punched in a number. He explained everything to the person over the phone, staring me down the entire time. Once he hung up, he briskly walked back to me.

"Safety's over." He said and gave me a soft shove.

He piled me into his SUV and shut off the Kojak light. I looked into his eyes. There was a very scared man behind them. "Joe..." He pressed his finger to my lip.

The door shut behind him and he walked around the hood. He opened the door on his side and hoped in. "What's up?" I asked.

"Tell you later." He said, not looking at me

"That's not fair! I deserve to know!" I screamed.

"Steph..."He cut me a look via the rear-view mirror. That ended out conversation.

He turned on Haywood. I knew my way back to my many homes. This wasn't one of them. "Morelli......where."

I got another look through the mirror. "Ranger's"

Joe taking me to Ranger's apartment. How weird was this? I pinched my arm. "Ow." I whispered. I wasn't dreaming. Ranger was sitting by the garage gate. He punched his key and let Joe in. Joe pulled to a stop and I got out. "I'll call you in the morning." He said and drove off.

I looked at Ranger. "What's going on?" I asked

"Its late, Babe." He said.

I let out a frustrated sigh and followed him into the building. Hal was slouched in one of the lobby chairs. He smiled evilly. "I'll get you back." He muttered. Ranger punched the button on the elevator and we stepped in. He leaned against the back wall, hands folded and his head pressed against his chest.

"Ranger?" I said

"Hum?" He responded and looked up.

"Nobody's telling me what's going on."

There was an awkward pause and the elevator stopped. Ranger slung his arm around my shoulder and walked my into his apartment.

"Come on, Ranger." I pleaded.

He silently stalked into his room. He brought out a pillow for me, and one of his sheets. I sat on the couch, and he sat next to me. He folded his hands and leaned forward. "They haven't found Norman Carver."

"Yeah they did. He was hit by the bus." I croaked.

"It wasn't him. They found ID on the body. Jack Layrant. Junkman's cruising the town looking for you still"

I was dumb struck. This Junkman-guy, or Norman-guy wasn't stupid. For the third time tonight, there was a long awkward pause. Ranger finally got up and tossed my the pillow. "I planned on you sleeping on the couch, but I'll be in the other room if you get spooked." He shut off the lights and disappeared into his room.

I closed my eyes. Sleep sounded really nice right now. I woke up thirty minutes later, drenched in sweat. Ranger was squatting, his face right next to mine. He smiled when I opened my eyes.

"Bad Dream?"

"Junkmans still out there..." I paused for a breath, but before I could begin my next sentence, Ranger kissed me, tongue and all. I was too weak to fight him off, not that I really wanted to. The kiss ended and he got to his feet. " Get some sleep."

And he was gone.


	3. Spotting of Norman

Typical of Ranger, I thought. I settled down on the couch again but couldn't fall asleep. I got up and got a glass of water. I tossed and turned on the couch for a while, and then rummaged through Rangers medicine cabinet. All natural cough medicine and all sorts of heath crap, but no sleep-pills. I looked in the mirror. Frankenstein meets Godzilla. That's what happens when you're sleep deprived. I shuffled back over the the couch and tripped over my shoes. I landed hard on my elbows, but didn't make much noise.

"Go to bed!" Ranger yelled from his bed. He wasn't angry that I had woke him, but I felt awful.

I climbed into the couch again. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt like I was drowning. I woke up in a sweat every time, too. Mentally, I flipped through my options. I could stun myself and hope I slept. Ruled that one out. I could....oh man...creep under Ranger's sheets.

It's not like he hadn't done that to me. On several occasions he had broke in and joined me in my sleep. He had practically invited me, too. I smacked myself on the head. Why was I even in this problem in the first place? Why hadn't I gotten a job at the button factory like my mom said?

"I like my job." I said quietly."That's why."

I got up to refill my glass of water. I passed Ranger's room. He was sprawled on one side, leaving ample room for me. He'd never know I was there if I woke up early and went back to the couch. The bed looked soft and comforting. I sighed and went to the faucet of the sink. I downed my water and tipped the glass upside down in the drain. I peered at the digital clock on his microwave. 2:14. Enough time to get a decent sleep.

I took a step into the dark. He was snoring softly. On his side of the bed, he was sleeping like a baby. If I disturbed that, he'd kill me for sure. I turned to leave, but felt drawn to the empty space. Almost like it needed me to fill it. I did a mental head slap and walked around the bed and sat on the side opposite Ranger. He had his back to me, so maybe he'd never notice. I slid under the covers and laid on my stomach, my head turned his way. Ranger untwisted himself from the sheets and rolled onto his side.

"Come here." He said softly.

I wriggled closer to him until I brushed against him. He grabbed my hip and held me close. "Babe." He whispered.

My heart skipped a few beats. What was I doing? I closed my eyes and tried to imagine Morelli there next to me. That didn't work, because if it was Morelli, I wouldn't be asleep. We'd be up to no good.

"Scared?" The words brushed my face

"Yes.....but not of you..." I stammered

"Liar." He opened his eyes and slid a stray strand of hair away.

He got me there. I was also afraid that the remaining slayers were going Def Com 4 over my ass. Ranger took his hand off me and turned over. I edged my head over to his shoulder and was peacefully asleep in minutes.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He nudged me awake. I opened my eyes and found him half dressed. "I need that..."

I released his hand that I had grabbed in my sleep. He flopped onto the bed next to me and ran his hand along my body, stopping halfway up my thigh and then back to my shoulder. "What's all this about?" I asked him.

"What's what about?" He retorted.

"All this lovey-dovey stuff." I said

"Just being nice to someone whose days are numbered." He stood up and walked to the door.

I followed him to the kitchen where there was toasted bagels again. He picked one up and bit into it. "So, how many days do I have?"

"As many as I feel like protecting you for." He ruffled my hair and picked something off my breast. He flicked it away and leaned in to give me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Do I have to go with you?" I pleaded.

"No, the apartment's safe enough. Hal's on door duty today...he's still a little jumbled from last night." Ranger sent me a wolf grin and locked up behind himself.

I made a mental list of what I could do. I needed to talk to Morelli and apologize to Valerie. It was indeed too early to call either of them, so I flipped the television on. I turned to news and watched scenes from last night. It looked worse on the television than it had in real life. Something seemed odd. The telecaster was scanning the area, explaining to the viewers that this was a mess. An odd shape was standing on the shaded playground. Big. Hooded. Norman Carver! I blinked and leaned forward. Yup, it was him.

I grabbed the phone and dialed Ranger. No one picked up on his cell so I tried his pager. Then I dialed Joe. He answered groggily. "What?"

"Joe, its Steph. I saw Carver on the news!"

"What?" His voice was jumpy.

"There's a scene where the reporters wading through the bodies and there he is, standing on the playground. It cuts to Eugene and then back to the reporter, and then he's gone."

"I'll call it in. What's the station?"

"Channel 14." The phone rang in my hand. "I'll hang up. I have another call."

"Bye." I hit the '2' button on the hand set and it sent my to Ranger.

"What's the rush Babe? Nothings on fire right?"

"I saw Carver on the news!" I yelled.

"Tape it next time." Ranger said.

There was a long silence. Ranger usually would have hung up on me by now.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Thinking...." He disconnected and I sat there on the couch, waiting for the news to come back on.

"If you missed any of the last articles, catch them at 8 on channel 42." The telecaster announced. "That's all the time we have for this morning. Tune in again at 6 PM for more coverage."

I grabbed a bagel from the small basket on the table. I covered it on peanut butter and ate it. I made a mental list. Too early to call Valerie or my mother. I needed to take a shower. I was sore, so I could just sleep. One problem, I'd miss the news. I flipped through all the other channels and settled on child's cartoons. I shoved off the couch and waddled into the bathroom. My face was bruised to high hell. There was blood caked down my arm. I turned the hot water and striped. I was in the middle of washing my hair with Rangers shower gel when there was a knock on the door.

"Babe." The voice called

I shut the water off and wrapped a towel around my body. It hung loosely to my knees, and I figured I was pretty safe. I slowly unlocked the door, and Ranger turned to me, then to Blues Clues, then back at me.

"There was nothing on..." I explained

He took a few steps closer smiled. "I can tell."

He touched my bare shoulder and his finger followed the edge of the towel. I took a step back, and tripped over my clothes. I fell backwards and landed on my side. Ranger bent down and hovered over my face. The smile had gotten wider.

"Ass." I taunted.

"I know Babe." He said, tugging the towel down a little more, hiding my right butt cheek.

He helped me up and left me standing there in the bathroom. He shut the door, and said, "Get dressed, lunch will be here in a few minutes."

Lunch? I just ate breakfast! I turned the lock and slid against the door, clutching the towel at my chest. He'd just seen my ass, and didn't make much of it. No fair, I haven't seen his ass lately. I rummaged through the basket of my clothes. I found a shirt that was clean, a pair of shorts that I'd worn once since Ella had washed them, put on my day-old bra and looked for underwear. Nothing. Damn. I decided to go commando, at least till Ranger left, then I'd steal his undies. I slowly unlocked the door. He was seated on the couch, gripping a sandwich of some sort. The wall clock said 7:56.

I took a seat next to him and picked a sandwich off the plate. There was all sorts of lunch meats in it, and then some sort of yellow-green stuff. I took off the top piece of bread and poked at the gunk.

"Just eat it." Ranger growled.

I replaced the top and closed my eyes. Pretend its a peanut butter and olive sandwich. I nibbled into it. Not bad. I finished chewing and took another nibble. I managed to wear down one of the corners. Ranger shoved off the couch, one hand on my knee and walked off to the kitchen. He returned with two glasses of milk. I set the other half of my sandwitch down on the table

I turned to channel 42 and watched through a few other little stories and then the story of the decade came on. Ranger set the tape up and began taping the interview. I didn't say anything the first time, just glanced over at him. He was taking everything in. It cut to commercials, and he shut it off.

"Saw it." He said before I could get a breath out.

"It's Junkman. I've seen him before. And that was him." I stuttered.

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer. "Everything's going to be ok. I've got your back."

He pulled my bra back and then let it snap. My back arched and I rubbed the sting away. Ranger was already on his feet and heading to the door. I sensed he had done this before. "Ass." I called after him, and I heard the door click.


	4. Asleep

I had half a mind to chase after him. It wouldn't do me any good. Anyway, I was off on an undie hunt. I made sure the door was locked, then I ducked into Rangers room. I went for the drawer I'd seen the pair earlier in the week. Sure enough, they were in there. Not I was positive he was walking around afresco. I sliped off my shorts and put on Rangers boxers. They were a few sizes to big. I pulled one of his hair ties off the dresser and gathered the boxers on a fist. I wraped the tie around the boxers and I was good to go. I pulled on a pair of sweat pants and closed his drawer.

I found my cell phone on the sidetable by the couch. I picked up the phone and called my apartment.

"Hello?" Angie screamed over her sisters.

"Hey Ang, is you're mommy home?"

"Yeah!" She set the phone down on the counter and screamed for Valerie.

"It's Aunt Stephy." she said happily handing over the phone and ran off somewhere in the apartment.

"Stephanie help me please!" Valerie begged when she got on the line.The baby was screaming in the background, and Mary Alice was neighing away.

"Is this a bad time?" I asked.

"No. Hold on for a minute." Valerie set the phone back down and quieted her children. The baby started to coo over the phone. I suspected Val dragged her playpen out of her room into the living room.

"Back." Val said finally.

"I called to apologize for last night." I said

"No problem Steph. I heard all about it on the news. You and that Sally guy killing Junkman. It was funny how he..." She exclaimed

"Val," I cut her off, "It wasn't him. It was a look alike. He's still out there looking for me. I'd love to help, but I'm not aloud to go anywhere without a bodygaurd."

"Aw, Steph. Please? I haven't slept in hours" I had simpathy for her. Her life was once again moving, and she didn't get the memo.

"I really can't Val. I promise I'll be at dinner tonight though" If I could talk Ranger into going.

"Really? Would you take the kids for like, 48 hours?"

"Sorry. Where I'm staying, there's no kids allowed."

"Where are you staying?" Valerie Damanded.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you." Words Ranger used often. I hung up on Valerie. I had had nough of this conversation and I knew where It was going.

The phone rang, still warm in my hand. The Caller ID read 'Apartment'. Valerie again. I refused to answer. Once it stopped, I hung it up and sat on the couch. It was already 9:45. I was bored out of my mind. The phone rang a good 15 minutes later. The ID read 'Mom and Dad'. I recognized the number as my mother.

"Hello?" I answered shyly.

"Stephanie Plum! You hit a man with a bus last night, and I haven't heard from you in 12 hours" Her voice was loud and angry

"Mom, it was Sally who hit him, not me."

"Why me?" My mom whined.

"Mother, I'm fine."

"Where are you?" She shot over the phone.

"Can't say."

"I just got off the phone with your sister. She said you refused to tell her anything."

"Still, I can't say."

"Stephanie Plum. I rased you better than this!" She exclaimed

"Mom..."I insisted.

She gasped suddenly. "You're shacked up with that Ranger guy arn't you. First it was his truck, then his clothing, and now you're in his bed!" She wailed.

"Mom, it's not that bad!" I defended.

"He's dangerous. He scares the crap out of the neighbors, and the shit out of me."

I gasped. My mother never cussed. I hear Grandma Mazur gasp too and yell, "Ellen!"

"Mom, he's a good guy. He's watching over me. Nothing more."

"I don't trust him." And she hung up. I considered redialing, but that would have been useless.

I flung myself onto Ranger's couch. My sheet was still there, and half a sandwich I wasn't hungry enough to eat all of. I finished it and fell asleep.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ranger slammed the front door when got in. His gun dropped to the tile floor bye the door and he let out a frustrated sigh. I shifted a little and opened my eyes.He came into view. His face was emotionless, like usual, and there was the normal fire in his eyes. He looked at me and everything seemed to soften up a little.

"Sorry Babe"

I did a full body streach and yawned. Nothing like a good nap. He sat next to my knees and soved me away from the couch. I groaned, but scooted over. I was sure he was going to knock my off the couch, but instead, he settled down next to me and took a deep breath. My back was pressed against his chest and he had one arm under my neck and the other was hanging over my side, brushing my jeans waistband.

"Not sure how she did it, but I got to have a very interesting talk with your mother." He sighed.

I turned in his arms and looked at him. He smiled and pushed my over on my side again. He turned on the television and settled on a hockey game.

"What'd she say?" I asked after a long silence.

"Alot. She said that if anything happened to you, she'd send Grandma after me."

"Oh God forbid that." I smiled

I felt Ranger laugh behind me. "We're expected for dinner at 6." He said.

"Are we going?"

"Depends." He nessled his face in my hair and listened tentively on the game. I tried to do the same, and ended up falling asleep.


	5. Dinner with the Plums

When I awoke, the Tv was turned down. Ranger was fast asleep behind me, his arm holding me close. And of course, I had to pee. The clock on the VCR told me that even if I didn't hurry, I'd be on time to dinner. I managed to wriggle out of Ranger's grasp and drag myself to the bathroom. I did my buisness and left, being as quiet as I could. Ranger was sitting up on the couch, looking groggy. He truned towards me and his mouth twitched. Ranger's smile.

"Babe, you really wanted to go to dinner?" He asked.

"Not really." I said, droping myself next to Ranger on the couch.

He flashed me a full on smile and draped his arm around my shoulder. He pulled me towards him and we sat there for a long time. The TV was turned off now. Finally, he sat up and took a hold of my wrist. He dragged me to my feet and into his bed room. He threw some clothing on a pile for me, and then shoved me off towards the bathroom. "I'll suffer through dinner with your family." He said in a mono-tone.

I showered again and put on the clothing he sent me with. I jazzed up my hair a little and re-worked my makeup. Once I was satisfied, I unlocked the door. Ranger was sitting on the edge of his bed, lacing up his boots. He had on his normal black shirt, a pair of dark blue jeans and a brown suede blazer. Dangling in his left ear was a small gold earing. One word came to my mind. "Hot". Ranger turned toward me and I suddenly realized I had said it out loud.

"Not to bad yourself, Babe." He smiled.

I left him in his room. I grabed my bag, making sure there was nothing Grandma Mazur would find if she got curious. I emptied my gun, which was still loaded because of the Junkman fiasco, and piled all my bullets in the middle of Ranger's coffee table. I set the batteries from my stun gun beside the mound of bullets and felt like I was ready to go.

I found Ranger, on his phone in the bedroom. He finished his call and followed me to the kitchen where I said good-bye to Rex and gave him a handful of Ranger's healthy cereal. Ranger ushered me out to the door and pushed the button on the wall.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The entire trip to my parent's little Burg home was silent. Ranger was in his zone. A zone I'd never begin to comprehend, and with the way his brain ticked, a zone I might not want to understand. It was almost winter in Trenton, and the sun had already began to sink. The street lights were on, and they caught Ranger's earing and his watch.

My mother and Grandma Mazur were at their usual post, on the portch, when we pulled up. Neither Ranger or I moved for a second. Some strange power came over me, and I brushed a quick kiss on his lips. "I'll go see if its safe."

He grinned and I angled out of his custom Vector M12. I steped onto the curb, half afraid Ranger would just drive off. He didn't and he killed the engine. My mother's eyes were open wide and her chin almost hit the ground.

"I don't want to know." She finnaly said, putting he fingers in her ears and heading into the house.

"Is Batman coming in?" Grandma Mazur asked. Her face was lit up.

"Yeah," I said turning towards the car and giving him a thumbs up. "We'll be in there in a second."

Ranger cautiously opened the door. Grandma Mazur gave a quick yelp of excitement and ran into the house. I waited for Ranger, who broke out in a slow run once the coast was clear.

"What's the deal." He asked.

"Don't make any sudden movements and everything should be fine. Just try not to mention your car."

"What, it's American!?" It was a retorical question, and I could feel Ranger smiling behind me.

For a moment I wanted to turn back and run home. Only, I didn't really have a home. The Kloughns(figuratively speaking, since Valerie hadn't officialy married Albert yet) were still in my appartment and Joe and me hadn't made up yet. Here was as close to home as it was going to get for now. Ranger sensed my urge to run and he slid his hands into my back pockets and led me through the door way.

He closed and locked the door behind him. He brushed me a kiss on my lips and from in the dining room, a plate crashed to the ground. My mother stood in shock, shattered ceramic at her feet.

"Oh dear, it sliped." She said and hurried to get a broom.

Ranger bent down to pick up the peices. I scanned the room. No Valerie. No Albert. A pink frilly baby car seat was placed on the couch, and Mary Alice and Angie came running at the droped plate. My mother returned with a broom, her face almost ghost white.

"Where's Val?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

My mother was scared of Ranger. Actually, anyone in their right mind was afraid of Ranger, my my mother was especially cautious. The fact that I was, well, in love with a scary cuban guy didn't fly too well. I was always the one to give my mother nightmares.

"They had work to do." She said and the color returned to her face. She took the shards of the plate from Ranger and went back to the kitchen.

"You remember Ranger, right girls?" Grandma Mazur asked.

"RANGER!" Mary Alice and Angie yelled in unison and charged at Ranger.

They began talking very fast, pulling Ranger towards the steps by his fingers. He turned to me and mouthed, "Help". I shook my head and walked into the kitchen.

My mother cornered me. "I though you were coming alone!" She said in a hoarse whisper.

I sighed. "Mom, remember that Slayer-guy that was trying to kill me?"

"Yeah. The one Sally ran over?"

"Sort of. He wasn't the right guy, so I've been staying with Ranger."

My mother looked at me, then at the bottle of wiskey in the pantry, then back at me.

"Mom, it's not that bad!" I said.

"Why me?" She made the sign of the cross and made me carry the bowl of mashed potatoes.

I set it on the table and drug out an extra chair for Ranger. He came back down the stairs a few minutes later, Mary Alice thrown over his shoulder barbarian-style and Angie at his hip. His eyes caught mine as he put Mary Alice to her feet. She joined her sister, tugging at his pockets to hold on like he was some sort of ride.

I leaned against the back of the couch. He walked closer and kissed me. "It's not nice to stare." He said, not pulling back, so his lips brushed against mine. I looked over his shoulder, and saw mother head for another shot of wiskey. My father took his seat at the table and had his fork and kinfe in his hands. Mother returned with a plate of chicken and the gravy. Grandma was balancing a plate of rolls like a waitress, up until my mother swept if off her hands and put it on the table. She went back to get the vegetables.

"Frank, grace." My mother said sternly when she returned.

He stared at her for a second. Actually, most of us did. We were a good church family, but we only said grace on holidays. My mother's eyes stared directly into my father's, and he finally gave up and said grace as quickly as he could.

"Pass the potatoes." He said, and everyone jumped to get him his mashed potatoes.

"Sooo....Ranger, I hear Stephanie is living with you. When she was shacked with Morelli, they couldn't keep..." Grandma Mazur had started to say but Ranger cut her off.

Everyone knew where she was going with that statement. "I'm more of a close bodyguard." He said plainly.

"We'll gee. I though for sure you too were..."

"Mother!" my mother screached. "End of discussion!"

We sat through dinner in almost complete silence. Ranger had helped himself to seconds on the vegetables, which offered another round of akward stares. "Stephanie, I need your help in the kitchen." She taped me on the shoulder on her way to the kitchen.

"What have I done?" I whined when I got into the kitchen.

"BODYGUARD!" She whispered hoarsly.

"Mom! I'm sleeping on his couch!" I said.

Her face calmed down a bit. "But what about out there...?" She pointed to the wall, which on the other side was the living room.

"Friendly kiss. No big deal." Thats what I had been telling myself.

"Too friendly." She said, followed by "Why me?" under her breath.

She hastily grabed the strawberry pie she had made and rushed it to the dining room. I walked over to the pantry and grabed the neck of the wiskey. I lifted it up over the olive oil and spun around to get a glass. I hit a wall. To be more correct, I hit Ranger, but that had the equivilent of hitting a wall. He took the bottle from me and poured two glasses.

I put mine to my lips, but didn't drink. I watched him down his, and then go for more. He caught me. "Grandma Mazur." he said, and downed his second shot.

I peeked around the corner and saw Grandma Mazur wipe drool off her chin with the back of her hand. Ewwwwwww! I looked back at Ranger and sighed. My family was an embarassment. Ranger put the bottle back behind the oil and shoved me to the kitchen. Heads turned.

"What?" I asked, sitting back down.

"Nothing dear." My mother said.

Her eyes told her that she was lying. She was probably angry with me for lying, or for breaking up with Joe, or for a list of reasons we shouldn't get into. I helped myself to a piece of pie and ate it at supersonic speed. Ranger had a piece in front of him, and he had taken a bite.

"Mr. Manoso, what was that you're driving?" My father asked.

"M12." Ranger said, turning his back to me to face my father."I prefer Ranger or Ric sir. Mr. Manoso makes me feel like my father."

"Ranger then. How many horses?" Both men got up and walked over to the door.

"490." Ranger said, and they both dissapeared onto the portch to admire Ranger's car.

My mother voice broke the silence. "Girls, why don't you go watch TV?"

"Ok!" They said in unison and hoped out of their chairs.

"I have to get ready for the viewing." Grandma Mazur excused herself.

Once the room was quiet, my mother asked. "Have you slept with him?"

"Do we have a time frame?"

My mother gasped. "When?"

"When Joe and I were arguing months ago. It was only one night, and he said he couldn't do that kind of relationship and he pushed me back to Joe."

Ranger and my father came back through the door, both red in the face from laughing. I looked at Ranger and raised my eyebrow. He shook his head and turned towards my dad again.

"We really ought to go." He said, shaking my fathers hand.

Dad nodded and turned towards the living room. Ranger shook hands with my mother, gave the girls a hug and a kiss on the forehead and ran out the door before Grandma Mazur could catch us.

Ranger closed the door behind him and leaned against it. The Buick came baraling down the road with Valerie behind the wheel. She was doing almost 50, in a 25 neighborhood. She came to a quick stop, about a dimes width away from Rangers back bumper.

Ranger let out a deep breath. He was scared for his car. Albert and Valerie steped out of the car, both looking releived but very, very tired. They ambled up the drive and I gave them both a quick hug and a brief explanation.

"You wouldn't be busy two nights from now by any chance?" Albert blurted out. He had changed drastically within the last month of father-hood. His face was as pale as usual, but all thought and emotion was drained.

I looked at Ranger, who was looking at me. We both knew what they wanted. A baby-sitter.

"I have survellince to do, but...uhh....." I stammered.

"But were doing our best to catch him tonight, so friday night souldn't be a problem." Ranger cut in. He turned to me. "I'll get Tank to do your _survellince _if nesessary."

I gave Valerie another hug and set off to Ranger's car.


	6. I can't be the one to tell you

"You had a conversation with my dad?" I asked.

Getting any answer would have been extremely difficult. Ranger was in his trance.

"Ranger.....RANGER!!! HELLO?" I called, waving my hand up and down.

He glared at me via the rear-view mirror with slight amusement on his face. I crossed my arms and leaned against the door the best I could. Ranger's super-cars had super-seat belts. My only guess was that they were used if the car went into super-hero mode and flew. I smiled at the thought.

"Yes, Babe. We talked about my car." He said finally, the amusement still in his voice.

"And that's all?" I knew it wasn't, we both knew.

"You know it's not. I'm sure you know by now that that's all I'm going to tell you." The amusement was suddenly drained.

Oh crap! Had I made him mad? Not a good idea to make Ranger mad.

"Geez." I sighed and turned to face the window.

"Babe, come on." He pleaded, sounding more like Joe than himself.

"Ranger........" I whined, looking at him.

"I can't be the one to tell you." He said, pulling off the road.

"What do you mean, you can't tell me?" I said, still in my mood.

"Are you angry with me?"

"No. I just want some answers!"

He smiled, and pulled off the shoulder back into traffic. What did he mean, he couldn't tell me?

"Suppose you did tell me, would you have to kill me?"

"No. I am not telling you." He said sternly.

"This is pissing me off!" I exclaimed and returned to my angry position.

When we got out of the car, Ranger headed straight for the door, not bothering to wait for me. He didn't hold the door open like he usually did. He waited in the elevator, only because I had no way of getting myself into his apartment.

He stood in the corner of the elevator, his back pressed on the wall, his arms folded across his chest.

"We're two completely different people, you realize that right?" Ranger asked.

I nodded.

"I know something that just might make your life a living nightmare, and you're so persistent on finding out." He stated plainly, looking into my eyes. "I know a whole lot, but that's one thing I can't figure out about you."

"Ranger, is this going to get my the answer to my question or isn't it. I'm really confused!" I whined as the doors slid open.

"Babe." The stare was like a knife, wedged between my ears. "It...uh..." He sighed.

"What, Ranger?" He was never at a loss for words.

"You'll find out soon enough." He finished and opened the door to his apartment.

Like usual, I had to back down and let Ranger run away. Thats what he seemed to do alot.


	7. The one with Joe

I had to give him room. I learned this with Joe. Ranger had an excuse; He was a guy. Guys did stupid things. Ranger was a better guy than some, especially Dickie or Vinnie. Joe was up there, but that housewife plan had to go.

I waited in the hall for awhile, not trusting myself to follow him. Besides, I had a few things I needed to clarify. What couldn't he possibly tell me? As a bounty hunter I ran into a whole lot. Mostly trigger-happy drunks, but a few mass murders and all around physcos were thrown into the mix. Junkman was both, and he was after me. I sunk to the floor and leaned against the wall.

If Ranger couldn't tell me, who would? My dad? No, my dad never knew anything I didn't, at least in the gossip chain. The president to the United States telling me I was a danger to Trenton and had 48 hours to pack and then I'd be shiped off to some forein country, that was only in existance because Ranger saved their sorry butt? Not logical.

Joe had nothing to do with this part of the story, I was positive. But thinking of Joe got me on another hot spot. How was I doing with him? The marrige fiasco, the constant bickering, and Ranger. No chance of Ranger letting his guard down, and Joe probably wasn't liking my living arrangements right now. I smiled, thinking of how many pills Joe had probably taken. Thinking of pills got me thinking about Morelli lying there in bed, then to Morelli doing other things I usually did with Morelli on a Friday night.

My cell phone played yankee doodle and broke my thought cloud. I glanced at the screen. Speak of the devil, Morelli's phone number poped up on my ID screen.

"Hey." I said.

"Hey cupcake." I hardly heard him over the noise of-A bar?

"Where are you? I can hardly hear you."

"Just a second." He said. I heard him breathing heavily, then the opening and closing of a door, followed by the soft click of the lock.

"I'm at work." His voice broke the silence.

"What's with all the yelling?"

"Tank just walked in with Anton Ward. Saw him crusing the streets in a steel gray nissan and did us a favor." There was a rap on the door, and a very angry voice told Joe that if his boney butt wasn't out of that office in ten seconds, he'd have to answer to Juniak.

"Still, what's with the noise?" I quized, standing up.

"Ward didn't like being tied to a bathroom cupcake. He spilled the beans, and then broke loose and uh..." The door opened and the closed. "They just now tackled him."

That explained the bar-like noise.

"Anyone hurt?" I asked

"Not as far as I know." Someone called Morelli's name again, and he was forced to open the door.

"Joe's busy now. He'll call back." Said a familiar voice. Before I could put a name to the voice, the caller hung up.

I figured I needed to tell Ranger all of this, so I walked through the open door, quietly shutting it behind me. The shower was going, and I could only guess who was in it. The door of the bathroom opened a little while later, and Ranger steped out in a pair of basketball shorts with a 23 in white on his lower thigh.

"Joe called." I said. He cringed and snatched the remote off the coffee table.

"Said Anton Ward was drug to the cop shop and spilled the beans."

"Its my word against his. I have alibis for you and the girls." An edge of concern was in his voice.

My phone rang again.

"Problem solved?"

"Yeah, but Juniak's alittle hacked I missed it." That statement was followed by a long silence.

"So...how much of the story was true?" Joe finally asked.

"Anton jumped out of the Bond office's bathroom."

"Thats a load of bull."

"You're not going to fight me on this are you? I've got Rangers word against Wards."

Joe cursed in Italian softly on the other end. "I wont fight you. We'll discuss _this_ when the Junkman things over. I love you." He put an edge on the word this.

"Love you too." I cooed and felt him smile before he hung up.

Ranger had found a hockey game and focused intently on it. I knew he was listening to my conversation with Joe though. His face was distressed to a level I'd never see in my life. Either it was because the Red wings were down by 3 at the end of the third quarter, or because of Joe.

"I'm tired. I'm going to bed." I said, pulling the neatly folded sheet off the back of the couch and draping it across my waist.

"I have a feeling you'll be sleeping here tonight?" He motioned to the couch.

"If I get scared, I know where you'll be." I smiled up at him as he got up and tucked me in.

Even when mad, he still cared. The previous conversation about me being entertainment and about him loving me 'in his own way' still played fresh in my mind. He kissed my forehead and said something under his breath.

"What?" I asked.

"Morelli's touble." He said and switched the lights out.

I sat up and tried to watch him leave. This was not an easy task, him being in all black commando wear and him being 'in the wind'. I sat back down and pondered what he had just said.

I knew from experience Joe was trouble. Ever since I was a little girl, I was reminded that all Morelli men were scum. Joe was no exception, I can assure you. Ranger said it in a different sense than my mother had. Ranger's voice told me that I needed to stay away from him, even if my mind told me other wise.

My phone rang again. This time it played a cute little ditty I had set aside for unknown calls. I answered it before the second ring, hoping against all odds, that Ranger was still sound asleep.

"Stephanie." A man called.

I gulped. "W...w...what?" I stammered. The voice sent chills down my spine.

"I know you're scared Stephaine. I know you're curled up or Rambo's couch there in the dark." The man was telling no lies there. I had the blanked clutched against my heart in a fist, curled up in the corner of the couch.

"I saw you go to dinner with you're parents. I saw you drink.You drank too much Stephaine. Not a good thing. I wanted to kill you then. I could have, but that would have been no fun." I slid off the couch and briskly walked into Ranger's room, where he was snoozing soundly on his stomach.

"See, there you go. Manoso will help you. He'll make big scary Junkman go away. That weird dude couldn't do it. Cop-boy couldn't manage. Hell, he sold you out." I crossed the room and shook Ranger awake.

He awoke with a start and then realized I was in moral danger. He twisted the phone out of my hands and pushed a button. Norman Carvers voice filled the room. My new phone had speaker phone.

"Are you depressed Stephanie? Depressed to find out that you can't hide anymore? It took me a long time to find you the first time Stephaine. But lover-boy helped me. Who said you couldn't buy a cop should be shot. I could arrange that."

"What do you mean?!" I screached, tears flowing down my cheeks.

Ranger had tossed the phone to the middle of the bed, and had pulled me under the sheets next to him.

"Morelli told me where you were. I gave him a good price for the information too. It'll come in handy." Shots were fired and glass shattered from the window over head.

"Say nighty night Stephanie Plum." And he was gone.

"Shhh...Babe" Ranger whispered in my ear, brushing glass off the side of the bed.

He put my phone on his side-table and I felt the heat pull away. I rolled onto my back and Ranger sat up. He unlocked the dresser drawer and pulled out a small little black box, no bigger than a perfume gift box, and then drew out a pistol. He replaced the box and didn't bother to close the drawer. Ranger slid in behind me again, and wedged the gun in the waist band of my jeans I had yet to change out of. The metal was cold on my back, but that mattered minimally in this situation.

I had stoped crying. So what? I was being stalked. No different than usual. THIS GUYS A MANIAC! My feelings were at war.

"You know anything about this?" I asked Ranger.

He drew in a shark breath and let it out slowly. "No."

I pulled up to my elbows. "Any chance of telling me whatever it was that you wouldn't tell me?"

"Any chance you still love Joe?"


	8. The call

"I dunno. No, I guess." If that how this conversation was going to start, I no longer wanted to know what was this big male secret.

"Babe," He wrapped both hands around one of mine. "I don't want you guessing."

"Should I love him?" I fell back and stared at the ceiling.

"You have a reason not to. He sold you out. He cared more about money than he did about you." Ranger whipered.

"Maybe he was threatened..." I could feel the sobs coming on.

"Maybe he wasn't." Ranger said.

I turned my head and stared at him. The suspense was killing me. The fact that the man I potentially wanted to marry did something to wipe me out. Ranger's phone began to ring. He reached behind him and picked up the reciever. "Yo."

"No, no one's hurt." "Yes, I'm sure." "Nothing that can't be fixed with tub of Ben and Jerrys." "Thanks Tank." Ranger slamed the phone back down on the cradle.

He turned to get up, but I streached my arm across his chest. If he really had wanted to leave, he could have, but he stayed. "What do you mean, 'maybe he wasn't?'"

"He ever sneak out at night?" Ranger asked me. "He ever tell you where he was going?"

I tried to put these questions together. "Yeah, all the time. Said it was work and I wouldn't be ale to get a hold of him."

Ranger closed his eyes. I sensed this was a the really bad part. "Terry Gillman ever come into play?"

I was sure my heart stopped. Either that, or it broke into razor sharp shards that were lodged in my back.

"I don't think I want the hear the end of this."

"I don't think so either, but it's probably best."

"Joe's been sneaking off with Terry late at night, telling me it's cop work. Then it turns out that he gave up my 'secret' location to a guy they've been trying to catch for a week now." I put the pieces together outloud.

"This might not be the right time to say this but, I'm proud of you." Ranger sat back and tossed a sheet across my middle.

"Why?" I pulled the sheet up a few inches.

"You managed to figure it out pretty good." He smiled and continued. "I remember when you first walked in to that cafe, your first day on the job. I thought that you wouldn't last a week, but I gave you a chance. That single chance has completely changed my life."

"You're right. That wasn't the right time to say that, but I'm glad you did." I nudged his shoulder with my forehead.

He was right. He had shown me the ropes. The look on his face said all, for once. 'This Burg girl wont last 5 days.' But I had. I walked into his life. Got him shot on two occasions, flattened and burned his Boxter, and constantly put his guys in the ER. Of all the times he opened up, it was right when I realized that I was being stalked by a commercial killer, and not being able to trust Joe.

I faintly heard the locks click and then bags get crumpled. A light fipped on from the foyer and I heard Tank fumble down the hall.

"Holy..." He stopped midsentence, mouth opened wide at the shattered glass on the floor.

He turned his glase to me, then to Ranger, to the window and then back to Ranger. Ranger shook his head behind me and forced me to get out of bed. He shoved his hands in my butt pockets and led me to the couch where he ploped down, dragging down my into his lap. Ranger slid me into my own spot and turned on the television. Tank handed me a cylincaric tub of ice cream and a spoon and he walked back to the bedroom with Ranger in tow.

"What the hell happened?" Tank asked.

"Steph got a little call from Carver that scared her. He got this building wired. He knew exactly where she was at all the time." Ranger said, shaking his head.

He had only made it to the doorway. Tank had walked in the room and brushed the glass into little piles the best he could on the carpet.

"He fire the shots?" Tank asked.

"Yep."

The room fell silent. Ranger had lowered his head. He was thinking of how he could fix this without leaving too many bodies. Clearly if something gets too messy, the state has a huge cow over that. Ranger knew that from past experiences. Tank studdied Ranger for a long time.

Tank had known Ranger almost all his life. They both grew up in the getto area of Maimi. They spent their childhood, avoiding drug busts and angry druggies. After managing to escape all that, two stupid 18-year olds joined up in the Army. Ranger had made Special Forces almost immediately. Tank had to climb his way up, but they both spent years in the service.

Ranger settled down and his daughter was born short after. Tank was her Godfather. Tank had been Ric's best man. Tank was almost Ranger's twin. Ranger's life went downhill from there. His wife didn't feel Ranger was capable of being a father. He was too reckless. He lost custody of his daughter, his life. Visitation was at his ex's discression.

Ranger moved to Jersey. Tank followed him and they started Rangeman. Somehow, Vinnie had gotten ahold of Ranger and Ranger accepted this second job. He loved this sort of job. Ranger involved himself with work. That's how he couped with all of that. He kept to himself. He stoped drinking, he stoped partying, he just...simply put...stopped living all together.

Then Stephaine came along. The little girl from the burg who didn't stand a chance. But like Ranger had told her, he gave her one, and she exceeded everyones expectations. She did things that were so insanely stupid you couldn't help but laugh. Ranger's life got back inorder to a functing point. He had an occational beer. He laughed more, reperfected his smile. Tank was stunned when just last christmas, Ranger had shown up to the Rangeman company party.

"Where are you gonna go?" Tank asked, breaking the silence.

Ranger lifted his head and met Tanks eyes. There was a tear in his eyes. A tear that refused to fall. "I...don't...know"


	9. The story of the green army man

Note-- I appologise for this being such a long chapter, I just had a lot to say and couldn't find a breaking point. Not that you mind, he he he. I realize that I'm going to get a lot of feedback with this chapter, but no Flames please! That's all I can say without spoiling it all. Esentrik0

I sat on the couch for a while, wraped tightly in the sheet. The ice cream balanced between my knees and one arm poked out of the blanket, weilding a spoon. I was shaking uncontrollably and it made it almost impossible to pry the lid off the ice cream, but I managed to do it. The ice cream was frozen solid and my arms were too weak to force it out so I let it sit on the coffee table and melt alittle.

I filpped through all the channels. Nothing interested me. I turned it off and focused my attention down the hall, behind the door Tank and Ranger had disappeared behind.

Ranger took a deep breath. It had been the fourth deep breath in the last ten minutes. Tank had turned to look at his feet.

"We'll stay here tonight." Ranger finally decided.

"I'll put a heavy watch on the doors." Tank pulled out his cell phone and punched something in on speed dial.

The conversation was short. Someone was on their way to replace the window and get the mess cleaned up. Security was upped and someone was to watch the 7th floor apartment tonight.

"You want me to stay?" Tank asked, sliding the phone back into his pocket.

"Everything's fine now." Ranger told him. That's what he had been telling himself.

The door to the room opened and Ranger stepped out. He smiled weakly at me, and continued on to the door. He rolled the locks and then ambled over to a small closet that was apart of the entertainment center. The doors pulled out to reveal a whole collection of VHS and DVD tapes.

He carefully selected two and turned to me. He held one in each hand. "Which one?"

I squinted to see better. He had an old VHS copy of Jurassic Park in one hand and Tombstone in the other. I can't remember the last time I had seen either. Come to think of it, had I ever seen Tombstone?

"I don't care." I told him.

"Defenately Tombstone, bombshell." Tank said from behind me.

"To tell you the truth, I won't be awake long enough to see the previews."

Ranger put Tombstone back. "What'd you do that for man?"

They exchanged looks, and Tank left without saying another word.

The movie started and I stayed awake longer then I had thought. I dozed off during the first few minutes, about the time that Dr. Grant was invited to go to the park. I woke up just in time to catch the sick Stegosaurus. I looked around the room, a bit disoriented. The ice cream was gone, and Ranger was no where in sight.

He had laid me on my side, and wraped me in the sheets so tight I couldn't move. Wiggling meself free, I sat up and noticed the room was being lit by one single candle. I pushed off of the couch and walked around. My ice cream spoon was sitting in the sink, but still no Ranger. Making my way down the hall, I saw that his door was closed. I reached for the handle, but realized it wasn't the best thing to do. I heard talking on the other side of the door. He was speaking spanish. The spanish whined down into english again.

"Don't wait up for me. See ya." He chuckled and I heard the phone get put back into place.

I scurried back to the couch and threw the sheet back over me. I intently watched the T-rex break the electrical fence. Ranger returned a few minutes later.

"How long you been up?" He asked

"A minute or two, why?" I rubbed my eyes to emphasis my sleepyness.

"Just wondering."

Ranger wraped his arm around me and pulled me closer. He fell silent and watched the movie. I tried to do the same, but my only thoughs were on Joe and Junkman.

Was I not good enough for Joe? All he ever wanted was sex. I'd wake up alone, after he'd gone off to work. Hell, he might not have been going to work that early. Maybe I was just an easy lay. That got me thinking of Dickie and how our marrige had ended the same way, almost. I had caught Dickie, someone else caught Joe.

More questions filled my head. Who caught Joe? Clearly Ranger knew something, and I suspected he had found out after talking to my dad. Where my dad got the information could have been a number of places. Grandma Mazur came home with ridiculous stories all the time. If it was Grandma, she'd had called me first thing she found out. Dad drove a cab. That was his only other resource.

Last, Junkman. Joe sold me out. As far as I knew, none of the Slayers had followed me, and Norman had no idea that I was staying up here. How entirely safe was this place. It is not a good thing when you have to question your safety while in Ranger's arms.

"Babe?" Ranger's question brought me back to reality.

The movie had been shut off. Tears rolled down my cheeks, and stains of were a few had hit on Ranger's shirt. I whiped my nose with the back of my hand and tried to calm down alittle. The room was prety much dark, with the exception of the candle

"Did you know about Joe?" I asked.

"Not long enough to act on it. I was going to wait untill you were sound asleep, and I was going to beat the snot out of him." Ranger placed a finger under my chin and knocked it upward on his chest. "I should have told you."

"Was I not good enough for him?"

"Babe..." Ranger started, but couldn't find the right words.

"Twice now, I have been...been..."I cried harder, and Ranger nodded his head understandingly.

"Don't worry about Morelli right now Babe. You have bigger problems right now." He looked into my eyes, and I was sure I was melting.

I nodded into his chest and got myself together again. He was right. I needed to get rid of Junkman. We sat there on that couch for awhile, not daring to say another word. The movements of his chest as he breathed rocked me to sleep.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I awoke to the familiar hum of tires on blacktop. I opened an eye and looked out the passenger window. Trees and highway signs flew past me. Soft music poured out of the speakers. Ranger was in the seat next to me, I could feel him. I looked at him, and for once, he took his eyes off the road to glance in my direction. Turning back to driving, he asked. "Morning."

It was still dark out. The occational streetlight caught Ranger's SWAT watch, sending bright lights into my eyes. The clock on the console told me it was almost three in the morning.

"Mmmmm. You better not be taking me to one of your safe houses." I moaned and looked out the window again.

"I thought about it." Ranger said.

"Where are we going then?" I straightened in my seat.

"You'll see." He glanced at me through the rear view mirror.

I heard yankee doodle playing in the distance. I knew the caller. I had nothing to say to the rat.

Ranger lifted a hand off the steering wheel, and dug into his cargo pocket. He extracted my phone and shoved it into the glove compartment. He knew the caller, too.

"Should I?" I asked, and took the phone out.

"Do you want to?" He asked.

I had to think. I wanted to figure out why Joe had done what he did. I wanted to hear it from him. But then again, he'd lied once, he could do it again. Joeseph Morelli had the contacts to back him up too. I jumped as the phone rang a second time.

My heart jumped when I hit the little green button.

"What?" I said.

"You ok, Cupcake?" Joe asked.

"What would make you think that I'm not?" Anger was building in my blood.

"You didn't answer the first time, and I heard you were shot at." Joe sounded relieved that I had answered. "Where are you now anyway?"

"Since when have you cared how I'm doing Joe?" I could feel my ears turning all shades of red.

Joe was breathing heavily on the other side of the line. I waited for an answer. Finally, I couldn't help myself. "You can't answer that, can you?"

Ranger's arm snaked infront of me and grabed the phone. I let him take it easilly, not trusting myself with it anymore. He turned it off and replaced it into the glove box.

"Might be best if you not see him first?" Ranger said with a grin.

I stabbed him in the shoulder all in fun. He reached over and pulled my shirt out of the seat belt, and began running just his fingertips on my belly. My body shuddered to attention, trying not to laugh. Since when had he known I was tickilish? After a minute or so of pure torture, I exploded in laughter and Ranger returned his hand to the wheel. "Don't play that game with me Babe. I always win."

No sense arguing with that. I heard yankee doodle once more, and felt Ranger's muscles tense. Neither of us was confident enough to answer. I leaned back against the head rest and fell asleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up in a bed. Not my bed, not Ranger's apartment bed, and certainly not Joe's. I was sprawled out on my stomach, covered by a heavy blanket. One hand was supporting my head, the other was streached above me. I lifted my head and looked around. I was a bit disoriented. The heavy blanket moved, and I realized it was Ranger.

The room I was in was small. We were asleep on a full size matress, covered in maroon sheets. The walls were a matching color, with the exception of the accent wall, which had been painted a cream color. It was all very masculine. A wooden dresser was pushed against one side, the top cluttered with odd objects. A cheep, plastic alarm clock was on the side table just beside my head.

It was a little past five. I grabed the clock with my free hand and stared at it agan. Ranger moved the hand he had at the back of my neck, and took the clock out of my hand. He put it back onto the table and rolled off of the bed. "Babe, just asking, are you wearing my underwear?" There was a slight amusement to his voice, like a five-year old waking up on his birthday.

"Maybe."

"I'm not going to ask. Get up." He said, walking around the bed and taping me on the head.

"Why?" I moaned and looked up at him.

"I have a surprise." He sliped a shirt over his head and cracked the door open.

He stuck his head out, and then back in. He backed up against the wall and let out a sigh of relief. What he was looking for, I didn't really want to know. He had his share of bad secrets. One I wish I hadn't known.

"What kind of surprise?" I leaned on my elbow and looked at him.

"A good one." He said, and did the door routine again.

Only this time, he slipped out and closed the door behind him. I drug myself out of the warm bed, not knowing why. I found my laundry basket in the corner of the room, on a magenta lazy-boy chair. I extracted my Rangers jersey and my usual pair of jeans. After changing into a clean pair clothing, I followed Ranger.

Outside the door was a hallway. There was a door at the end of the hallway, and two doors leading off to the side. I assumed one was a bathroom, and the other two were bedrooms. A staircase wound down across the hall from the room I had slept in. Breakfast was cooking from downstairs. Coffee and toast aromas filed up the steps. I took the steps two at a time until I was at the bottom. A living room, similar to the one my parents lived in. A tan sectional infront of a tv. The television wasn't huge, but it was bigger than the one in my apartment. A dual VHS/DVD player and a cable box were stacked together beside the tv stand. Pictures were strew around, all of Ranger's relatives.

The living room broke off into the dining room. Ranger was sitting at the table, spreading some health gunk on a bagel. Sitting across from him was a small girl, who looked so much like him, I thought it was his daughter. Ranger looked at me and smiled. The child followed his eyes and turned to face me.

"Who are you?" She asked politely, her pupils the size of quarters.

I looked at Ranger.

"I'm a friend of Ranger's." I said, taking my first step into the dining room.

"Uncle Ranger has a girlfriend!" She yelled, and squealed her way into the kitchen.

"Anything I should know?" I asked once she had left, taking a seat next to his.

"They're as nuts as you're family." He said with a smile, and turned in time to catch two little heads pop out of the door.

"How many are there?" I said in a stage whisper.

"My family? Thoughs are my nieces Katie and Juilan. My brother got divorced and moved back in. You can't miss Robbie. My father probably won't notice you're here. . My mother will probably be the first one out here to investigate." He explained.

"No crazy grandmothers?"

"Crazy grandmother doesn't wake up till eight. Truth be told, they're unhumanly like your family" He said and leaned in.

He brushed his lips against my nose, and breathed into my face. His lips pressed against mine at the same time, the swinging kitchen door burst open. He pulled the kiss into a smile, and pulled back. Someone, no doubtedly his mother, came bustling in with a plate of pancakes.

"So it's true." She stood back and looked her son over, from head to toe, with her ands on her hips. "You could have told me when you called. I'd have put out fresh towels and sheets."

"I didn't mention Steph because I knew you'd wait up for us. I really, really don't want to talk about it right now." He helped himself to a pancake.

"Ricardo Carlos Manoso! Are you ashamed of having your girlfriend meet your family?" She sounded concerned.

"Ma..." He looked up at her.

She began to ramble off in spanish, and Ranger stood up and whisked her off to the kitchen. He returned a few seconds later with a bottle of syrup.

"What was that all about? I don't speak spanish." Ok, so I could ask for a beer but that wasn't the point.

"Something about me eloping, having children, and my wife never knowing my parents." He pulled himself back to the table.

"So...what are your plans for today?" I asked, drowning my pancakes in syrup.

He watched me in disbelief. "Ranger?"

"I was planing to pop a cap up Joe Morelli's ass. You wanna come?" The line itself sounded like a joke, but his face told me otherwise.

"Don't hurt him. I wan't him to die a long and lonely life." I pleaded.

"How bout Vinnie. I feel like making Vinnie squirm." He placed his arms behind his head and streached.

"Fun, but no. He's family, weither I like it or not." I chewed on my pancakes.

Damn. The whole Manoso family could cook. And best of all, this isn't rabbit food!

"You know, you really ought to run." He said, pouring himself a glass of milk.

I shot him a look that said 'no way'. "Its on my list of things to do."

"What is that list?"

"Learn to fly, get married, learn to cook, have children..." I trailed off, not thinking of what I said.

"I could help you with some of them." He said with a smirk, and turned to see his mother back into the door carrying another heavy plate.

In the other room, a lock was thrown and the door was opened. A elderly cuban man hobbled in, holding the Thursday paper. He looked at me, then at Ranger and nodded. Ranger returned in a smile, and said something in spanish. His father answered back, and then smiled at me.

My heart almost jumped out of my chest. He had noticed my presince. Ranger had said that was a good thing, but Ranger's idea of good things sometimes was grey of my idea. I smled politley and nibbled at the rest of my pancakes. I glanced a few times at Ranger, and he was trying not to smile every time.

Two little heads bobbled out of the doorway, followed by a bigger one. Ranger was right, his brother wasn't hard to miss. He wasn't as big or as tall as Ranger, but he had the same face. With the exception of the crude facial hair, they would have been twins. The only difference was the hair. Robbie had a hair cut almost like Morelli's. He looked at me, the same way everyone else had, taking it all in.

After a minute past, he shook his head, blinked and took a seat across from me. Conversation was short. A small introduction and then early morning babble, directed to the entire table. Light footsteps danced down the stairs, and a short little cuban woman came into the room. I looked past Ranger at the wall clock. 8:03.

She was as thin as my Grandma Mazur, and was dressed head to toe in pink pony pj's . I recall buying one almost like that for my niece Mary Alice.

"Morning abuella." Ranger said cheerfully.

She smiled sweetle, looking at him first, and then at me. "Morning Rico. Who might this young one with you be?"

"Stephanie Plum." I said, extending my arm.

She took it and shook it gently. I looked into her eyes and saw my own grandmother in there. Strange how that worked.

"Very nice to meet you." She nooded aprovingly and took the last open seat.

She looked at all the sullen faces around the table. Everyone, staring in confused amusement. Ranger got up before I could sit back down and told everyone we were off to work. He led me back up the stairs and twisted the nob on the door. He shut it carefully, hearing it seal and then sliding the locks. He turned over to the corner of the room and hit a knee. I had made a b-line for the bed, and now sat, trying to look around him.

Ranger pulled away the carpet of the corner, and pulled out a small plank of wood. He reached his hand in, and pulled out a shoe box. It had been taped and had writing all over it. He sat on the bed next to me, and placed the box between us. Carefully lifting the lid, we both peered inside.

The box had belonged to a little boy. It was cluttered with things little boys had. Ranger pulled out a little Bronco, the black paint still intact. A plastic baggie of notes was next, followed by more toy cars, all modeling ones parked in Ranger's garrage.

He quickly found what he was looking for. A small steel pipe, bended at an odd angle with two clips and a rubber stopper. We were both facing each other, leaning on one elbow. I looked up at the same time he did. "Door Stopper." He said.

He rolled off the bed and cliped the thing on the door trim. It streached then nessesary two inches, and pushed against the door, right at the middle hinge. I remember how they worked, I had had one like it when I was a kid. Only mine was plastic, and Valerie was menstral. It snaped in two, and left me with a raging bull.

He returned and fiddled with the box some more, he face reminiscing of all the memories. Each object was turned over in his hand, then tossed onto the pillow beside us.

A little plastic army dude, a small and worn out swiss knife, a rotten bullet, and a few little plastic action figures. I looked at them, not with the same expression as his, but thinking that all of these little toys had an impact on his feelings. Each one with a history. This told more about his child hood than Ranger himself had.

"God. It's been forever since I was back here." He said, pulling out another army guy. He rolled onto his back and examined it. He had the dumbfounded smile on his face that was generally seen on the face of a child getting his first A on his report card.

"I never imagined you playing with army men." He turned his head and looked at me, the smile still in place.

"I did. I spent all my time, in my room, playing with these guys." He nodded and turned back to the toy. He fliped it over in his fingers and looked at the base. "This was Tank's guy."

"What?" Curiosity filled my actions, and I leaned over, resting my head on his chest to look.

Sure enough, TANK was etched into the bottom of the plastic. It had the carved look to it, the edges unclean and crossed.

"He was my only friend for a long time." Ranger's voice was even. "We'd go down to the park everyday after dinner and have make believe battles. We'd use raw luck and stragey, and the winner got to take one of the other's men."

I picked up a few green men from the pile and examined them. Two had ROB engraved on the bottom, one more of Tanks, and the fourth one had KENT scratched in. I put the others down and looked at Kent's. I never heard of Kent. Ranger never mentioned him. I was about to ask, and Ranger put down the one he had been playing with, and took the one out of my hand.

"Kent." He said quietly.

"Who's..." I began. Ranger put his finger to my lip to quiet me, and began to explain again. "Kent was Tanks younger brother. Same age as Robert, same classes, and with me and Tank being so close, they were buds too. Kent joined the force with Tank and I, and he was involved with a trerrible bombing."

I knew the rest of that story, and that was the reason why I never knew Kent.


	10. The day begins

We sat on the bed for a few more minutes, picking through old toys and such. The look on Ranger's face as he picked up each one was a face I had never seen, and I was sure I'd never see again. There wasn't much after the Army Guy story, just a few pictures and some odds and ends. The last thing in the box was a half of a drum stick. It was the top end, and it looked well used.

"You realize I learned more about you that you have ever actually told me?" Can't believe I just said that.

"Yes."

"Back to what you said the other night, about my chances. You gave me a chance, and ever since then I've become a pot hole in your life." Man, I was just letting everything off my chest. I had spent all last night thinking about all of that. "You don't have to do all this."

"I think I do. You're valuable, Babe. More valuable to anybody in my life as it currently stands. If I loose you, I loose everything. You have no clue what that means, but I do. Don't go around thinking you're just a blade of grass on my lawn."

"Jeez, I didn't think about that."

"You shouldn't have to. You assumed right. If I hadn't sent you back to Morelli after the deal was delt with, just kept you by me, then none of this would have been a problem." There was a message of great importants in there.

"You've always been there for me, always trusted me, and always gave me a reason to trust you. No one else has ever done that. Dickie lied, Joe lied..." My voice trailed off.

"Babe, there might be a time where I can't be there for you." He finally turned his attention to me.

I blinked twice. I knew that, had since day one, but now it sunk in. He was right. Yes, he was better at his job than I am, but the mortality rate was generally high. I had my share of life or death situations which, with the help of Ranger, over-came most of them.

Valerie had saved me from Abrunzi. Joe saved me from time to time, but for the most part, Ranger had come to my rescue. I had actually become acustomed to that fact.

"I know Ranger. My life expectancy's not great either. One wrong move and I'm gone." I protested.

We got quiet for a moment where there was the pitter-patter of feet on the steps. Squealing trailed off down the hall and a door was slamed next to us. Ranger turned the stick over again and again, just like he had done with everything else.

He was becoming more human. Same basic wants, needs and concerns. And I was one of them. Minute by minute, his Batman persona was coming unglued. Ranger was a top buissness man who lived in a super-secret batcave all alone and ate sawdust. Ricardo, however, was a man much like Joe. Came home from a long day busting bad guys, coming home alone in a big, empty house and had heartburn whenever I was missing and the phone rang.

No really, the phone rang. Yankee doodle went to town, riding on a pony...

"Joe." We said softly in unnison.

I groped around for it and found it, stashed away in the side table with my Smith and Weston and pepper spray.

"Yo." I growled.

"WHERE ARE YOU?" Joe screamed.

"Ahh...Morelli." I cooed.

I could feel his blood level rise over the phone. "Morelli? Excuse me?"

"Yes, you senseless sack of balls, Morelli. You have a reason for calling?"

"Yes. WHERE ARE YOU!" He screamed again.

"Hiding from Junkman with Ranger, no help from you." I said sarcastically.

"Me? What'd I do?" He played innocent

"Forget it Joe. Go home, screw your blond bimbo, and leave me the hell alone." I slamed the phone shut and laid it next to me.

"Way to lay it on him Babe. Want me to shoot him?" Ranger asked.

"I told you no already." I was still a little edgy.

"Ok."

The phone rang again, not yankee doodle this time. I looked at my phone. No display. That tuned Ranger in. He pulled his from his cargo pocket and answered it.

"Talk.""Ran off, why?""Why?""No.""You're not doing so well yourself.""She's rattled."

"Yes, were safe." He had a short conversation with who ever it was, I presumed Tank, and hung up.

"He's like my mother sometimes." He said, rolling off the bed to put on his boots.

"Tank?" I asked.

"Yeah." Ranger began shoveling toys back into the box, leaving the lid open, and put it back into the hole.

He pulled the thing off the door and sliped it into his pocket. "Come on Babe."

I followed him out the door. He ran down the steps and kissed his parents on the cheek. He led me out the front door and to the Bronco.

The front yard was as awesome as the inside itself. A full yard of nice, freshly cut grass. A white picket fense bordered the yard from the neighbors' and enclosed a small flagstone patio. The walkway to the gate was also flagstone, and there was a fire pit built into the middle. He remoted the doors open and I jumped into the passenger seat.

"My plan was to stop at the office, get a few skips, and then help you get them. Is that ok?" He asked as he angled in on the other side.

"I wanted to go shopping. All that stress over Joe and Junkman is getting to me." It was ment to be a harmless joke, but it brought tears to my eyes.

This is a reality. I have a huge, cuban bodyguard who I'm sharing a bed with in his parents home. The bodyguard was also attracted to me. My hormones were kicking, full speed, and I was pushing them aside. The mental image of Ranger, stripping just before he collected his debt...Oh boy.

"You have money to shop?" Ranger snaped me back to reality. He had the key in the ignition, but hadn't started the truck yet.

"Well," I sighed, "no."

"That's a problem babe." He turned the engine over, and went into his mode.

Problem my ass. If I was going to die, I wanted to go in something new.


	11. Putting it to Morelli

Where the money would come from was another story. That's why I didn't bother arguing and let Ranger help my through my day of skips.

Lonnie Balasko, a real stinker, was first up. He lived at Pleasant Side retirement home. Old folks are no fun to bring in. They smell like the dead, they walk funny, and they put up a fight. Old people have more energy than I do, it's sad to say. He was charged with batterment and rape of one of his students. Lonnie had all the old man traits. Things hung loose in places it shouldn't have, he walked with a limp, and he smelled horrible.

Ranger hated the anchient as much as I did. Lucky him, it wasn't his skip. He called Tank and arranged for a pick-up, refusing to put liquid-bones in his back seat.

And like old people did, he made quite a scene. Refused to cooperate and pulled a colt out of his shorts. I just though he had one hell of an erection. Ranger catapuleted into action, diving out of the Bronco and barreling across the parking lot. He knocked the gun out of Mr. Balasko's hand, only to find it wasn't loaded.

"Shit." He said solemly, and retreated back to the truck.

I managed to snap a cuff around his wrist and drag him out to the curb. Half the home was watching through the lobby windows. The other half were on life support or couldn't see. Tank was unhappy to drop off Lonnie, but in the end, he and Ranger had some words and Tank no longer put up a fight.

I crawled back into the Bronco and placed two file folders on my lap. Serena Jones and Peter 'Snoopy' Tumelen. Peter would be an easy catch. He lived at Mooner's house. I hadn't seen Mooner in months.

"Hey Dude!" He exclaimed when he answered his door.

"Hey Mooner." I said, Ranger just tiped his chin.

Mooner took ahold of my wrist and tugged me inside. Ranger followed, being cautious as ever. Dougie was sitting on the couch with Peter and Toby, Mooner's other roommate. They flagged me over to the couch, where the big screen TV. There was one seat open. Ranger pushed past me, and sat in it. I did what a woman would do. I sat on him.

He had been expecting that. He had his arms positioned for me to sit comfortably in before I was on his lap. "You know that whole Ramos incident?" I whispered so only Ranger would hear.

"Yeah Babe." He whipered back.

"Guess how they bought that?" I pointed at the TV.

Ranger burst out laughing. Didn't take an idiot to piece that together. "Good for them."

They were all engulfed in watching 'I Love the 80's' that I felt it was safe to leave. Peter would be here tomarrow, stoned over like a mountain.

That left Serena. I looked at her picture. I suddenly recognised her.

"Omigod! She works for Cone!" I was in shock.

I had bad run-ins with the Cone brothers. They owned a little casion cog shop here in Trenton. The oldest Andrew, the second, Bart, and the last son, Clyde. Clyde ran a game, as they called it. The game consisted of 6 players, the webmaster, and a prize. Singh got mized up in this 'game' and ended up turning cold and running. He learned you can't do that. They killed Singh in Vegas, and then I learned I was the prize for the game.

Clyde decided I was to good a prize. He kidnaped me, and locked me in the factory. He had guns, I did not. Ranger came to my rescue, and the last I heard, Andrew had moved to Alabama to escape the bad press, and Bart was put in charge of the factory. Clyde had been shot to death, curtosy of me.

"Oh boy." Ranger looked enthused.

Of all the Cone boys, Bart liked me the least.

I sighed as Ranger made the turn off. I could see the building in the distance, growing closer. Ranger pulled up by the enterance. "You want a wire?"

"It souldn't be too terrible." I said, reaching for the door.

"This guys got psyco running through his blood. Be careful." He pulled my hand in his, and then let me go.

I got my second FTA in under an hour. Bart Cone had been a little bitter, but he looked more relieved than he had last time I delt with him. Serena was white faced and grim, just like everyother face in that factory.

"I'm glad I'm going to jail." She said. "Beats that dump."

She was settled in the back seat. She came without a fuss, and almost died when she saw the chaufer. She got out of the truck on cue, and ambled over to the bench, unchained. I got my body reciept and passed her once. "Is he taken?" She asked me.

I turned around and walked backwards towards the door. "Yes." I called back to her.

I spun around and hit a body. I hit it about mid chest. My head knew this chest. I raised my head slowly, the anger bubbling uncontrollably.

"Cupcake."

"Joe." I said, pushing him aside with my shoulder.

"Stop it." He said, grabing my wrist and pulling me to him. "What the hell is going on?"

"Let me go Morelli." I squirmed, but his grasp held firm.

"No." He said, shifting the weight from one leg to the other.

"No? Let me, freaking, go." I strained to get free.

"Absolutely not." Joe jerked his head fercely.

"Let her go Morelli." Ranger stood in front of a crowd of cops who had gathered to watch.

Joe let go of me the instant Ranger's mouth moved. Through the patented cop face, anger brewed. He stood straighter and turned around. He took a few steps closer and stabbed Ranger in the ribs.

"You." He said flatly.

"Yes, officer Morelli." Ranger had a smug grin on his face.

Joe shook his head. "What have you done to her?" He asked under his breath.

"Wanna repeat that?"

"Yeah. What have you done?" He said it with more will in it than last time.

I took a step forward and put my hand on his shoulder. "Let me tell you. He sat up with me. He held me close and let me sleep. He woke up with me in the morning, and he didn't ask for anything in return. How many times can you say that Joe?" I glanced around. Every face was watching with awe.

"God Steph..." Joe started

"Don't you ever dare. I had a chat with Mr.Carver last night. I know everything Joe. And if weren't for all these damn cops," I said, pointing around the room as the crowd got bigger, "I'd wedge my boot up yours."

Ranger smiled and walked around Morelli, taking my hand and leading me away. I took one last look. Joe still stood there, the same expression he had when I left him standing there in his socks and T-shirt with his gun. Ranger planted a kiss on the top of my head and muttered something about not ticking me off.

I gave him a playful shove, and got in the truck.


	12. A dinner like no other

"What ever happened between you and my dad, anyway?" I asked as I let myself into the truck.

Secretly, I had wanted to know since last night. I had gotten a frift of the story, but there were other things said.

"We talked." Ranger said, closing my door and walking around the hood to his. When he got in he added, "He heard from a client that Joe was wandering around. Your dad didn't know what to do. He wanted to tell you, but then you'd just be mad a Joe and never get the whole story. He told me to pop a cap up Morelli's ass and make him fess up."

"You came in laughing though?" I reminded him.

"Guy humor." Ranger said with a 200-watt smile.

"So..." I said looking out the window.

He was still hiding from me. The tone, the face, the story itself. I sighed. "I still want to go shopping."

"You're going to need this." He said, pulling out a body recipt for each of my skips. "You dropped them in your fight with Morelli."

I took them hastily and stuffed them into the pocket of my jacket. It was Febuary in Trenton, and still bitter outside. In a good twenty minutes, Ranger pulled up in front of Vinnies Bonds Office. We walked in together, something we had never done before. We'd walked _out _together.

This got a different reaction from Connie and Lula. Lula was partially hidden behind the filing cabinets, doing her job for once. Connie was twisting the lid back on for her Bananna Yellow fingernail polish. Connie was in a top and a little white skirt. Lula however, from what I could see, was wearing the pair of strechy pink sequin pants and her hair was the color of applesauce.

"Howdy?" I asked when I walked in.

Lula looked up, only her eyes visible from behind the cabinets, and Connie droped the closed polish on the floor. They looked from me, to Ranger, then to each other.

"Hey girl." Lula said shyly and picked up stack of files. She hid behind the cabinets once more.

"The rat in?" Ranger asked Connie

"Been there all day." She replied and tossed him a ring of keys.

Ranger tried the lock first, then he selected a small gold key off the ring. There must have been 15 keys on the one ring. I was sure most of them were for the desk drawers and cabinets in the supply room, and then there was one to the whole office itself, Vinnie's lair, and the bathroom.

In seconds, the door was wide open, and from what I could see from the door, Vinnie was standing half-mast in a very impossible position.

Seeing his white, hairy butt was enough to make me hurl. I shut my eyes, and I heard the door close. Ranger pressed his back against the wall and for the first time in the tree years I knew him, he was mortified. Connie and Lula were going through histerics, their faces equally red.

"I didn't think that was possible." He said through all the noise.

"Boy, you 'aint seen nothin'." Lula croaked.

"Yeah, being a ex-ho, you see everything." Connie added.

Ranger gave each of them a smug look and then hid his face. The door to Vinnies office flew open.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" He asked angrily.

We all took a few seconds to address the state he was in. You could clearly see the bulge at crotch level, that the kakhi pants failed to hide. The top two buttons on his shirt were unbuttoned and his tie was freely draped across his shoulders. The whole office burst into another round of laughter, including Ranger.

Vinnie scaned the room, looked at himself, and then stomped back into the office. He locked the door again and we were quiet until we heard a zipper being undone. Connie and Lula chuckled and Ranger looked like he was going to be sick.

"Vinnie, before you get started," He said, knocking with the back of his first two fingers. "I'm taking a vacation."

"Yeah, fine whatever. Bon voyage! Now go. I have paperwork to do." Vinnie huffed and resumed to 'work'.

Connie and Lula fell silent. They both knew I was still shareing living space with him. Lula wanted to ask questions, and Connie was silently figuring things out. Hell, I wanted answers too. Vacation? Was he serious?

"Here Connie," I said, sliding the two body recipts across the table.

"No Peter?" She asked, and filled out a check.

"In the middle of 'I love the 80's'" I explained.

"Can't go interrupting the I love the 80's man!" Lula blurted out.

Ranger had backed himself up against the wall, and his lips were curved in a small smile. He muttered something awefully close to "God forbid that."

"Anything else?" Connie asked and tore the check out of the book.

"Nope, you?" I turned to Ranger.

"Oh! I forgot. We got another skip. Really nasty one." She said and almost knocked over the trash bin when she stood up. She pulled a file off the top of the cabinet and handed it to me.

I opened it. Nasty indeed. Turner Walker. He was picked up for explosives and dual murders. "Fun." I said and made a face.

I passed the file on to Ranger, who breifly looked at it and tucked it under his arm. He shoved off the wall with his soulder and headed towards the door. I assumed I was suposed to follow. He was already out the door before I could get out of the chair.

"Vacation?" I asked his back once the door squished closed behind me.

"Can't deal with you and work Babe. None of the boys feel up for the job." He stoped and waited for me to catch up.

"You sure are putting alot of effort into saving me. Am I really that important." I asked.

Ranger was halfway through turning around when I asked that. He stoped in his tracks and backtracked. His hand rose and he lifted my chin with his thumb. "Yes." He brushed a curl out of my face and tucked it behind my ear. He stole a quick kiss before angling into the Bronco.

The ride was silent. I watched and memorized all the streets Ranger turned on and it wound down to the center of the Trenton city limits. I recognised his parents house. It was the only one with a porch. Ranger let himself in and anounced that he was home.

His mother came into the room and informed him that both he and his 'girlfriend' had clean towels in the bathroom under the sink.

"Mom. She's not exacly a girlfriend." Ranger whined and followed her into the kitchen.

I wanted to hear this conversation so I followed. Standing on the outside of the door, I could hear a lot. "Ricardo, don't lie to your mother."

Oh boy. Robbie ambled down the steps and raised an eyebrow when he saw me ducked with my head pressed against the door. "Shh...Ranger's getting yelled at."

Robbie smiled and tippy toed across the foyer and joined me. I fell to the floor and pushed my back against the door. Ranger had taken a long pause, so I filled Rob in.

"This sounds like fun!" He whispered when I was done.

"Remember me telling you about the Bombshell Bounty Hunter?" Ranger finally said.

"Don't tell me she works for that worm Vinnie!" She exclaimed and I heard china scrape.

"Yeah. Thats he I met her. I work with Steph. We're not dating or any..." He said.

"Dont try to sell me that bull, Ricardo! You clearly like her enough to bring her here."

"Madre, this was the safest place I could think of. She's being chased again." Ranger sighed

"You have a home don't you?" She questioned.

"Yes. My place was ransacked. Stephanie's being stalked by a Slayer. She's scared. I'm scared for her." Me and Rob exchanged glances.

I hadn't known. He never acted frightened or upset. He never mentioned a Batcave break-in. I stood up and almost felt the need to go in and throw my arms over his shoulder, and then the feeling to run and hide and never come out.

"You're not mad I brought her here are you?" Ranger asked quietly.

"No Ric. I was just shocked. You haven't had a steady girlfriend since Diana." She said, and I heard packaging open.

"Want any help with dinner?" He asked.

"I got it hijo. Go watch a Tv or something. I'm making Chicken and rice. It won't take long." She shoved Ranger out the door.

I scrambled over to the couch and sat down. Robbie leaned on the arm and started a conversation. He acted like we had been there talking the entire time when Ranger came into the room.

"You have yourself a prize there Ric." He said as he passed Ranger.

Ranger sat down on the couch next to me. He put his head between his knees as far as he possibly could. His hands ran though his hair and stopped once they touched fingertip to fingertip.

He had done this for me when I felt ill.

"You alright?" I asked and scooted closer to him.

"Fine Babe. Its just a headache. Get them all the time when I deal with my mother." He got up and headed for the stairs.

I reluctantly followed him. Joe and my Mother got headache's when they were worried, mostly about me. I long ago realized that I was the reason for all sorts of pain.

I let myself into our room. It felt weird calling it that. Just like saying "I've been sleeping with Ranger." Which in reality, thats what I had been doing. Falling asleep by his side. "Our room." I repeated in my head.

I shuffeled over to my side of the bed and found all my hardware on the sidetable. My gun and pepper spray next to my cell phone which I had purposly left behind today. Just out of curiosity, I picked it up. 15 missed calls. Twelve of which were from Morelli. The other three were from my Mother. I listened to my voice mail.

"Cupcake, please answer your damn phone. I want to talk to you." Joe's first message started. He went on to explain how much he loved me and how he missed me.

I turned the volume up a bit and threw the phone on the bed. I could still hear him, but now I didn't have to waste energy to listen to him lie. The next few calls were similar, mor begging and pleading. Ranger walked in halfway through call number 3, when Joe began to tell me things he'd do to me once I came back to him. Things that usually got me excited, but now made me sick.

Calls 5, 6 and 7 were calls about what happened at the station. The harassment he endured. How he wasn't sure what I was talking about.

Calls 8 and 9 consisted of more pleading. Call 10 was suposedly the truth:

"I know I hurt you Steph. I wasn't cheating on you cupcake I promise." His voice came over the other line smoothly. "I don't know where you heard it, but I honestly wasn't. I did get a call from Carver and he offered my 3 grand to turn you in but I swear I didn't. Come on Cupcake, call me please."

The other 4 were similar to 10. I sat opposite Ranger indian-style on the bed. Once Joe was finally done, my mother came through. I stopped the message and turned the phone off. "I don't know what to believe anymore." I said openly.

I twisted and stared out the window. I never realized the view before now. The sun was low in the sky, disapearing behind the tall buildings of Trenton. The sky just above my head was a deep orange and it spread across the sky. Around the sun were rings of yellow and gold. I was taken back alittle. Enought not to notice Ranger move behind me and wrap his arms around my waist.

I snuggled into his arms. He had clearly just showered, because the smell of Bulgai was stronger than ever. I closed my eyes and couldn't help a moan escape my throat. Ranger chuckeled behind me and pulled me on my side with him.

Thats how Ranger's mother found them when they didn't come down when she anounced dinner.

Stephanie's head was pillowed on Ranger upper arm. One of her arms hung over the bedside and the other was draped lazily over her belly. Ranger's other arm followed Steph's and grasped hers at the wrist. Their feet were on their own respective sides.

She smiled to see her son so happy. Ever since the divorce, she almost never saw Ric smile. He kept to himself more than ever.

Until Stephanie. She remembered the first night he'd told her about Steph. She, just like Stephanie's mother, demanded Ranger eat atleast one meal a week. He showed up late one night and said he was doing survelince with her and lost trak of time. He smiled the entire evening and actually ate the cherry pie she baked.

She pulled a sheet out from underneith them and flung it over them. Bending over, she kissed Ranger on the cheek. "Dinners ready." She whispered and he nodded his head gently.

With a smile, she exited the room and shut the door behind her.


	13. The day ends

I jerked awake when the door closed. The room was dim now, with traces of light coming from the other room. I looked around the room and noticed the lack of Rex. He was still on Ranger's kitchen counter, unfed and uncared for. And probably asleep. My heart beat got faster. What if he was dead?

Ranger stirred next to me. "Whats wrong Babe?"

"Nothing. I just forgot to feed Rex and..."

"I had Tank do it. He's fine." Ranger boosted himself up and scooted off the bed.

I did the same and smoothed out the wrinkles on my shirt. Ranger opened the door and the light flooded into our dark, little room. He trompled down the stairs, and I took my time and noticed my hair in the hallway mirror. Not half bad. I looked at my watch. Go figure, I was asleep for a measly thirty minutes.

The table was neatly decorated. There were old, worn place mats under expensive-looking black plates. The silverware was a glitening platinum. The whole tableset itself cost more than my usual car. In the middle was a steamy pot of rice with every vegetable known to mankind mixed in. There seemed to be an unhealthy amount of butter and spices mixed in as well. To top it off, as if that weren't enough, there were little chunks of chicken.

Just like sitting down to dinner with my parents, Ranger's dad helped himself first. He passed the spoon on to Robbie, which hastily served himself and his daughters. The spoon was passed across the table, moving from family member to family member until it hit me. I took a good helping and set the ladle next to the pot. No one had eaten untill I set the spoon down.

Dinner went pretty well. There was the usual silence by Ranger, but everyone else was cheery and talkative. I learned that his father's name was Samuel, and that I was to call him that or Sam, not Mr. Manoso.. His mother's name was Anita. Ann for short. Grandma Manoso had actually met my grandmother on several occations. Ranger's motions stilled when that sentence popped out of her mouth.

"I heard from the beauty parlor that you blew up a Porshe Boxter! Is it true?" She had the same enthusiasim as Grandma Mazur.

"Yes, I did blow up a porshe." I nodded. "It was Ranger's"

Everyone looked at him, and he shrugged and shoveled another forkfull of rice into his mouth.

"Everyone heard it from that crazy Ellen Mazur lady, so you never knew if it was true or not. I just had to check. She's a nice lady, but she talks about aliens and studmuffins alot."

Ranger stopped chewing and looked at me. I started laughing and he was working on keeping a straight face and not spitting veggies across the table.

"She's...my...grandmother..." I managed to spit out.

"What a surprise! How's she doing? I haven't seen her at Stiva's in ages. Can't find someone to take me that far anymore." Her face lit up like a kid in a candy store.

Ranger was still frozen, like someone had just kicked him between the knees. His fork wavered in the air, which he had a death grip on. I couldn't blame him. His grandmother was so much like mine it wasn't funny

"She's doing fine." I said calmly.

"Good to hear. Tell her I said hi!" And dinner resumed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After dinner, we all sat in the living room. There was a huge black sectional. Rob brought out The Secret Window, still in its packaging. The girls were sent to bed, and Grandma watched the first few minutes just to see Johnny Depp's "cute" butt and then wandered in the direction of the stairs.

I fell asleep twenty minuted before the movie ended. I had heard Lula talk about it, so I already knew every detail. I vaguely remember being carried up the stairs and gently placed on my back on the bed. Being on that couch all night, the little bed was heaven. The bed diped beside me and Ranger came up behind me. He brushed hair off my forehead and behind my ears. The back of his hand followed that trail, even though all the hair had been brushed away already.

I don't know what made me do it, but I wriggled on my side untill my back was against his chest. He let his hand fall and I layed my head over it, pressing it against my cheek and shoulder. "G' night Babe." He said and I felt his muscles relax.

"Night." I said and flew into a world of magic and wonder.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For the second time today, I was awakened by a loud noise. The green LCD light of the alarm clock said it was a little past 4. Sooner than I had wanted to get up. The noise was the sliding of a old window. Ranger's back was to the window and all I could see was the shadow of the intruder.

Average build, I guessed about 5' 9" or 5' 10". The shadows hand rose with something, it was too hard to tell, and then in one quick motion, stabbed. Ranger let out a howl of pain and his body held me tighter that he'd ever done before. Then his muscles relaxed and I was scooped from his arms and tossed out the window.

I braced myself for a quick death. I prayed in my head that I was dreaming. Someone caught me. Bigger than the first man, and defenatly taller. More bulky too. I caught a glimpse of a hood before a blindfold was slipped over my eyes.

OHMIGOD! I'm going to die! I knew the kidnapper, at least one of them, was Junkman.

"I found you. You're all mine now Stephaine." He stated.

I kicked and screamed, none of it doing me much good. The voice verified that it was Norman Carver. I was pushed into the trunk of a small car. The door slamed shut on my and locked. The car started and I felt around. My hand grasped something sharp and metal. I found a flashlight too, and switched it on. The batteries were intact, and I could see the thing in my hand. A Trenton Police badge, the name Joeseph Morelli etched into it.

I felt ill. My stomach hurt, my head hurt, all my limbs ached, and my heart stopped. Morelli was working with Carver. I did a list of logical ideas. No way on God's wonderful green earth was I going to die that easily. I tossed the badge aside. I made my was through the trunk carpeting, tearing and pulling everything in sight. I remember watching a documentary on it long ago. There were wired on the inside to disengage the trunk hatch. I pulled and tugged. Nothing.

I proded the gap where the trunk closed. I kicked at the top but nothing good happened.

"If only I had gone running," I cried, kicking the top once again, "I'd be able to get out of here."

With another sharp kick, the hatch poped open.


	14. A day in hell

(Thanks guys for all the helpful reviews. I appologise for the chapter switch, I should have hecked it first. I'm not going to murder anyone in this chapter. I have removed all these charaters from JE and I plan to put them all back in one piece. This and the next chapter are extremely gruesome, but for every pain Steph sufferes, Joe will do double. -Esentrik0 -)

I was relieved that I poped the hatch open. Only, two pairs of fingers curled over the edge and pulled it the rest of the way up. The sun was still hours from rising, and I could see their faces perfectly. Norman looked on cooly, and reached an arm in to grab me. Joe looked like he was going to be sick.

"Morelli?" Junkman asked, turning to his partner.

Joe snaped back to attention and pulled my out of the trunk. I reached behind me and grabed onto the badge. I stabbed blindly at Joe with the sharp end, but he dodged every attempt. Joe got angry and hit my square on the cheek. The impact sent my new toy flying. I fell to my knees, felt a prick into the back of my neck, right above my spine.

The world spun around me. I was still being drug along, first across a driveway and then behind a six-foot high brick wall. I was awake enough to be aware of my surroundings. Suddenly, my surroundings, namely the big metal pole, moved, and the spinning world went black.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My head pounded heavily. Rain pelted the steel-shingles that made up the room of the building. I lifted my head a quarter of an inch and looked around the room. It hadn't been cleaned in ages by the looks of it. The pugnet odor from the whiskey and body fluids quickly filled my nostrils. With one sudden move, I pulled the shirt up over my nose and covered it with my hand.

My shirt smelled like Ranger's. I let out a weak cry. Ranger. How bad was he? I assumed he was shot with the same junk I was, probably much stronger though. I had to escape!

I wriggled around. My feet were hog tied and were absolutely useless. My face burned as it scraped the worn carpet. I felt like a worm from a nueclear factory that grew arms. I hit a tiled floor finnaly and glided across it without a problem. Then I stopped.

I turned to see what was wrong, and found a face full of a man's work boot. Stunned, I yelped in pain and lashed out, catching the kicker in the crotch. I held on for a second and waited for the pain to stop. It got to a bearable point so I relenquished the kicker's pride and looked up. A pair of slightly shocked, pained, and ill eyed looked down upon me. The cop face was in place, but there was nothing cop about him. He was pure madman.

"You do that," I huffed, spitting out the blood that collected in my mouth, "to all your victims."

I sat up and rubbed my face. That was proceded by more blood spiting, and I figured I split my lip or brok my nose or something. I couldn't feel much, but the rug burn was still intence. "What the hell was that for anyway?" I growled.

"For not answering my calls, for the utterly embarrasing sceen at the station, for running off to Ranger..."

"Hold on. Embarassing? You suppose that call I got from Junkman was a little embarrasing? The breaking down in front of Ranger? I was crying because of YOU! In front of HIM!" I realized I was making the floor shake and I was making no sence at all.

"HE loves me. The look on his face when I was crying about YOU was just...devastating...Joe." My voice stuggling to find the right word.

"He ever tell you the?" This came not from Joe, but from Junkman, who had just come into the room carrying a paper bag.

"What's it to you?" I spat back.

"I wouldn't play that game. I have control of your meals." He ran his finger down my forehead and off the tip of my nose. He jiggled the bag above my head and then turned for the door, my breakfast in hand.

"Didn't answer his question, Cupcake." Joe said once Carver left.

I remained silent, the anger building. I realized from the second I was tossed from the window that my death was approaching. But now, it hit me that it would be a long, painful and pitiful one. "No." I said, not even really saying anything at all. I knew I said something, but I couldn't hear it.

He heard me though. "Why'd you run to him then?"

"You took my there. I couldn't run anywhere." I turned away from his face.

"Before that," His words were hot on my back. "When you ran from my place. You could have gone anywhere, but you chose Ranger's."

I stood up, bracing myself on the wall because I couldn't hold myself up. My legs were still bound, but I could feel them loosening. "You've never been kidnapped by," I bent over and tugged at the knot untill it came loose, "a killing lunitic," I tossed the rope at him, " and your cop bofriend!" I steadied myself.

"You're right. I haven't." He said, tossing the rope aside.

I turned away and shook my head. He never was in trouble. Even with me, the worst he got was a grafittied, and that was because Eugine Brown was catapulted off the Buick. That was a funny moment in itself. Hey, how many people can admit to throwing a Slayer off their car and be telling the truth?

"Cupcake?" Joe brought me back to reality.

"I'm not cupcake." I protested.

"Fine. What's the smile for anyway?" He scoffed, leaning against the wall and kicking one foot on top of the other.

"Thinking of how bloody your hide will be when I get out of here."

"That's impossible. You have no clue where you are. All you know is that you're trapped in a house with two men who both trained to shoot and kill." He laughed.

This was an unconfortable personality of Joe. He'd never been mean, to this extent. Ok, so he hit a squirrel in high school and backed up over it, but he was 17. "Funny. I had other plans."

"Good luck." He moved in for a kiss, but I kicked him hard in the shin, and he backed out the door.

I looked around. I was in a fully furnashed living room. The furnature was poor, but it was still all there. I moved around and ivestigated the couch. Aside from the red and yellow stains and knife slashes, it looked almost functual.

A small TV sat on a few off-color bricks. A window was boarded shut behind it. Matching stains for the couch traced the floor. The walls were magically spotless. I prowled around. I was on the carpet, and I could see the drag marks I made when I pulled myself around.

The tile led into a little kitchen. There was a small fridge, the handles wraped in layers of duct tape. A microwave was pushed into a corner and the stove had rusted over. I pulled through a few drawers. Sharp knives, rows of them. I could do some damage with thoughs knives. I'd need to keep that in mind. I retreated to the living room, afraid of what I'd find next.

I sat on the floor infront of the couch. No body in their right mind would get me to sit on it. People were probably brutalized and murdered on that couch. I shuttered and turned on the TV. The news came through, even though it was heavy with static and you couldn't understand it.

But I could see a picture of myself in the top corner. It was just my face, and the picture was recent. I had a bruise running the length of my face. To tell you the truth, I was only worried about my hair. I didn't make a big scene over the nicks and bruises. I smacked the side of the television and turned the volume up a notch.

"More from Greg Harmon on this story." The desk announcer said, and the screen switched to a tall, hairy guy.

The hairy guy was standing out front of Mama Manoso's house. The sun had begun to rise over the top of the house. I realized I had been missing for just a few short hours and it was already all over Trenton. "Earlier this morning..."

I tuned him out. I scanned the background for Ranger or any of the guys. Besides, I already knew the story, I was living it. "Mrs. Manoso, do you know what happened?"

The camera cut to Ranger's mother. "Other than the footprints through my garden and the fact that Stephanie Plum is missing, no I don't. I was sound asleep, like most of Trenton." She sounded irratable and she was still decked out in her flannel nightgown.

"Any clue who the footprints belong to?" The reporter asked.

"My son Ricardo and his team are working on that now. They suspect Joeseph Morelli and Norman Carver, but they can't go pointing fingers."

The reporter smiled and laughed a little despite there was a life at stake. "You sound like the model mother, Mrs. Manoso."

Contact information flashed on the screen: "If you have any tips on the where abouts of Stephanie Plum or any of the accused, please contact local police."

From the contact info, if jumped back to the news table. "Joe Morelli was last seen last night at 6 p.m. leaving the police station. He was driving a brown crown victoria with the licence plate number LCU-876. He also owns a navy blue pickup with licence plate number TTS-385. The pickup has an extra antenna and a "I'm a cop" bumper sticker."

And then to the weather. It was going to rain in Trenton, all day. The high would be a whopping 64-degrees and the low--. Before I could see the low temperature, the TV was shut off. "No fair." I whined and lowered my gaze to the floor.

Four perfectly shined boots stood in front of me. I shook my head angrily trying to dismiss the men. Instead, they pulled my up, one huge hand around both of my upper arms. I did what any girl would do-screamed. This bought another strong hand over my mouth. Another gut instinct, I bit down hard on it.

Junkman screamed and dropped me. Joe pulled me closer with his one arm and whispered "Get out of here!" and then shoved me towards the door.

I ran, lost in all the confusion. I caught a flight of steps and took them two at a time. I found a steel metal door. I tugged at the handle with all my weight. It was locked. From a flight of steps above me, shots were fired. A bulled bounced off the door and breezed my shoulder as I turned to run again. The minute I hit the third flight, I could hear someone bounding down. Blood soaked the left side of my shirt. I looked at it for a quick second. That was going to be a bitch of a stain.

I sliped off the last step and bounded down a long hallway. It was angelic white, and reminded me so much like the mental hospitals. There were hundreds of doors, each one locked. My strides echoed off the empty walls. I was soon at then end of the hall with no where to go. A gun cracked at the other end and I let out a gasp of pain before fainting to the floor.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blood ran down my chin. I pulled to wipe if off, but I heard the chank of metal hitting metal and my movement stopped. I pulled at my other hand and I got the same reaction. The room dimly lit by a dungeon style lantern. The wall surrounding the room was a rough brick. And it was cold. I shuttered, sending most of my body against the chains.

Directly infront of me was a door. It too looked like it was pulled from a midevil dungeon. There was a bloddy cot shoved up against the wall furthest from me. The room smelled like murder. I wouldn't imagine it used otherwise. There was a furious knock on the door before it was forced open. Light flooded into the room and I could see a stone floor of the same quailty as the bed.

"You little..." Junkman stepped into view and hit me hard in the stomach as he finished that sentence.

I choked and tried to fall. But I was chained to the wall, my hands fanned out to the side and my legs hanging a foot off the ground. Acid crawled up my troat, and I spit a nasty yellow liquid at Junkman. He took a step backwards and missed it. I frantically tried to clear the taste of bile out of my mouth and missed all the movement going on.

Junkman reached for my neck, pushing it against the wall. My back went with it and I could feel the rough edges of the brick tear holes in the back of my shirt. Then into my skin. All the while, I was gasping for air. Carver finally ripped his hand away from my troat. Tears were rolling down my cheek and I concentrated on getting my breathing to a normal level. I strained against the chains, and I could feel the cuffs rub away the skin on my wrist.

I violently shook the tears from my eyes. And finally, when my vission was clear enough, I realized that Joe was sitting on the bed watching my with a bemused expression, and Junkman had leveled a gun at my forehead. "Any last words?" He asked calmly.

I turned from him to Joe for a minute. He made a puppy dog face that made his eyes get glassy and his scar very noticable. But he didn't look the least bit sorry. "You're a pig Morelli!" I screamed.

"It runs in the family." He shrugged.

"What a loving last sentence." Junkman said and sliped the safety off the gun. "Anything you want me to say to Mr.Manoso?"

"Hey, wait up pal." Joe jumped at that sentence. "What are we going to send him?"

Carver rested his gun hand freely on Morelli's shoulder. "It would be nice for him to get something to remember her by."

They exchanged grins that made me sick. And I got sicker when I realized that the man I once loved was going to ship body parts off the the man I love now. Revenge can only go so far. I sniffeled as another wave of tears was about to fall.

"Her hair's to pretty" Joe commented, stepping out and tucking a strand behind my ear.

I jerked and reopened the wrist wounds. The hair fell back infront of my eyes. "Her finger is too old. It's been used too much in the mob movies." Junkman laughed alittle. "Can't send a head. It's too heavy and it won't look good if I make swiss cheese out of it."

"That narrows it down. Not much left is there?" Joe said.

I had that sick feeling again and threw up. My head was bent and it came out my nose. Joe stepped up and whiped my chin with the sleeve of my shirt. I took the opportunity to lash out at him. He fell backwards into the mess on the floor and moaned. "Great, I have apple-a-la-Stephanie on my ass." He muttered and left the room.

"There's always an ear. Do you want me to put an earing in it before I send it?" Junkman taunted.

I squealed and Junkman pointed the gun back at me. He pulled the trigger. The gun clicked, announcing to the entire room that there were no bullets to fire. Carver angrily ripped the gun apart and cursed like a sailor. He tossed the gun to the floor. "You got lucky." He stated and stomped off, pulling the door behind him leaving me in the dark.

I was going to church if I ever got out of here. I'd pray for three straight days. My heart beat got back into its normal rythmic patterns. My arms wanted so badly to drop back to my sides, but the restraints wouldn't let them. The feeling to my feet was gone. I twitched my face, and I could tell there was or had been a bullet in my left cheek. I used my tounge to tenderly prod it, and came to the conclusion that it was still there. The stinging in my shoulder had long passed. With all my other pains, that one had just become the least important.

Joe came into the room quietly, shaking a bag of food. "What it is?" I coraked weakly.

"Its a balogna sandwich and a plastic tub of apple sauce, take it of leave it." He grumbled.

"I don't have much of a choice. You going to feed it to me or free me?"

Without a word, I watched his shadow tuck the goodie bag under his arm and pull a set of keys out of the other. The pressure on my wrist was unreal. Joe slowly released the handcuff and examined my limp wrist for a second before unwrapping a sandwich. I weakly grapped it and lifted it to my mouth. In seconds flat, the sandwich was gone and I was on the apple sauce. On any normal day, I would have just tossed the apple sauce. I always threw it out as a kid, and never cared for it much as an adult. But I ate it anyway.

Joe had to feed it to me. Once my arm droped to my side, no muscle in my body would get it to raise. It was all to soon that he locked it back up. He loosened it, not wanting to sever off my hands. He did the same thing for the other one, and then left. I was alone again. No matter how cruel your company was, it was always better to have company.

I decided I needed some sleep, so I continusly knocked my head against the wall untill I knocked myself unconsious.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My vision was blury when I woke up. I could feel the bruise forming on the back of my head. I'd have to sleep on my stomach for a few nights. I didn't realize I wasn't alone, or that I was smiling.

"Still thinking you're going to get out of here Cupcake?" Joe asked cooly.

"I told you to stop calling me Cupcake." I demanded.

"You always liked being Cupcake, why the change in heart?" Joe was right on top of me, his knuckles brushing my cheek. He hand was warm to the touch.

"I was Cupcake when you loved me Joe." I said, pulling away from his hand.

"And I still do."

"You can't possibly say that and mean it Joe." I was a little amazed by all his wit.

"And what says I can't?" He had the puppyface going again.

"That's getting old Joe." I pointed out and his face got flat. "I was always second on your list. You always cared about work, and then me. That got old really quickly Joe. Not once did we ever have sex and not have you're pager or cell go off."

He looked like he was going to say something, but I beat him to the empty silence. "Not once. It went off, but you ignored it, remember?"

He rolled his eyes and his face said, "Oh, yeah."

"Ranger's a busy man too. What makes you think he'd put down work for you? You're a sweatheart Cupcake, but you're not worth moving heaven and earth for."

There he goes with the nickname again. And the accusions. "You hear what Ranger did, just yesterday?" I said in a really testy voice.

"No, what?" Joe got real curious.

"Told Vinnie he'd be taking a vacation. You have an idea why?"

Joe shook his head. He knew altright. His face got really pale and he looked like he wanted to eat his words. "Because he wanted to be free to deal with me. Because he wants me safe and sound, tucked up into my bed for the night without needing to fear for my own life. I'm the little girl from the burg. I am in no shape to be saving my life."

"He want you to be alive so if he ever needs a quick fuck, he could have one!" Joe spat out.

"That's why you stuck around so long. But clearly I wasn't good enough!" Our voices rang off the dungeon walls.

"YOU WERE TOO MUCH DAMN WORK!" Joe hit the last straw and stormed off, throwing a handful of pills at me.

I caught a glimps of the pills before the light dissapeared. All for the pain. Man, did I manage to screw up.


	15. The mystical, magical escape

I had another visit that night. I realized long ago that I was going insane from the pain, but I couldn't be this bad. Carver came in, alone. I could feel a fear in his body movements. In the, I estimated 16 hours, I was traped here, the lantern light never went out. I watched Joe put oil in it earlier, but it had been burning for a long time. It put off an odor that balanced the musty smells of blood and sweat.

I closed my eyes, not really wanting to know what he as about to do. Brutally, he unchained me and tossed me onto the bed. By this time, I was wide awake and showing it. My weak muscles strained to get away, for good. I rolled over, off my bad shoulder and on my back. The swelling on the back of my skull had decreased, though it was still a horrible pain when I put pressure on it.

By now, I was certain I'd split my lip earlier today. Or yesterday. I had a new apprecation for a clock now. It throbbed and if I wasn't careful, I would open it up again. I had swallowed my share of blood, and I wasn't looking for more. I closed my eyes again and stopped struggling.

I heard the hiss of a match. I squinted out of one eye, and I saw Carver bring the match to a cigarette he had tucked between his lips. It caught intantly, and he took a few wiffs of it. In a few quick motions, he crossed the room and pulled the shirt off over my head. He strattled my waist holding me to the bed. He bent over, the cigarette just millimeters from my chin. "Having fun yet?" He asked.

It came out clear and the burning end of the cigarette brushed my chin. I could feel it begin to burn. I managed a wimper, and he pulled the cigarette and pushed it against my collar bone. Shoulder dug deeper into the matress. He twisted it between his two fingers and removed it. He admired his work, blowing off the debris off my bare skin. He repeated the process, movng from one side of my body to the next. My screams were so loud, he stuffed the bloody sleve of my shirt in my mouth.

The blood had a steel taste to it. I coutinued to scream in spite of it. The burns were all over the top half of my body. I lost count after 12. The cigarette was widdled down to a butt. Junkman produced a knife out of his back pocket. "I didn't get to hear any of your ideas during our little talk. Any part in particular you'd like to brown bag over to Ranger?" He played with the blade on the inside palm of my hand.

"Go to hell." I said.

"Been there, done that." He said and in one quick motion, I had a J etched into my hand.

I gasped. It stung really, really bad. He got off of me, and I lifted my hand if front of my face to inspect it. Blood dripped into my face and rolled off my cheek. The light flared brighter, and I could see bone. I do believe that is when I passed out again.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I take back what I said about company. There was nothing better than sitting here all alone. I hadn't been rechained, just locked in the small room. Now that I was semi-mobile, the room was no bigger than a closet. With the sheets of the bed, I mopped up the vomit and the blood. I kicked the wad of smelly goo as close to the door as I could, hoping Joe would trip into it again. I huddled on the bed, my arms hugging my knees to my chest. I tore my t-shirt to make a compress for my hand. The bleeding stopped overnight, but nothing hid the bone and muscles in my hand I didn't wish to see.

So here I was, sitting bra-clad in a cell, with death threats lingering in the air, waiting on dear old Ranger. Usually in the rescue missions, he was here by now. But I couldn't give up hope. If I had something to believe in, then I would believe in it until I died. If I gave up, I just died.

I'd never been the one to smoke, but I couldn't help but get a little high off of the lingering smoke fumes. I felt better after taking a few deep breaths. And returned to waiting.

Somewhere during the waiting period, I dozed off. My stomache howled. I heard Joe laugh heartily from the hall way, and the lock slid open and he came in. He sat down on the bed next to me and placed a bag between us. He looked at me, and I didn't dare take my eyes off of him. I knew he couldn't be trusted, even from my Burg days. Finally after a long silence, he pulled his shirt off his back, dropped it over my shoulders and turned to leave.

It was unbelievably warm. Or I was unbelievably cold. I picked up the shirt and gingerly pulled my head through the collar. It smelled like Joe. A smell that hadn't crossed me for an entire two days, and one I couldn't stand. In a flash, it was thrown in a corner on top of a pile of dead bugs. I could freeze for all I care, I wasn't wearing that shirt.

On to the next delema, my stomach growled at me. I plunged into the sack, and pulled out a kiddie juice box, a plastic bag of goldfish and a few grapes. Joe hadn't shut the door when he left this time, and it lit up my room well enough to tell that the grapes were well on their way to being rasins and the goldfish were stale. I ate them anyway, and quickly washed them down with juice. The juice box was fine to my standards.

After a deep breath and a long sigh, I returned to waiting for Ranger. Again, I fell asleep on duty.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And so much like the last few times, I woke up in a room of two. I blinked a few times and then shuddered into the cleanest corner of the bed. The shadow was too big to belong to Joe. Carver had returned.

"You fell asleep on me Steph. You shouldn't do that." He taunted and the flicker of the candle light caught the blade of a knife.

He took a step foreward, revealing the bloody knife and his arm up to his elbow. Then another step, revealing shoulders and a chin. One more step, and all of Carver was in view. He was strong, almost the same size and Ranger. There was no getting away from this guy if all hell broke out.

In an instand, he pounced. Purposly, he stabed the knife into the matress next to me. I shreiked and wedged myself in the corner of the two walls. With an evil, lustful grin, he pulled me back down by my ankles. He twisted a heavy rope around my wrist. It itched against the scabs, which were still tender. Then he bound my feet together, using the same rope he did on my hands. I cried out for help, but no one that cared seemed to hear me.

The knife was back in his hand, and he had the dull side of the blade slide across my bare stomach. I kicked but with my arms and feet sharing one rope, I didn't have much room to fidget. My pleas got louder and more intense.

"Ranger's not going to come save you Cupcake, no one will." Joe said.

He was leaned on the door jam, a fresh shirt on his back. I realized that in each of my pleas, I was begging for Ranger to come save me. "Help?" I wimpered.

He gave me a cocky grin and moved out of my line of sight. I begged louder, begged to just die. I didn't care how, but I wanted to be dead right now. "Shut up will you. How am I supposed to enjoy all this if you keep screaming like that? I'm going to go deaf." Junkman's voice broke though my screams.

That when I kicked. Really hard. My entire body flew at him off the bed, my knee connecting with his crotch. He let out a very-masculine, very-emotional sob. But he kept me pinned to the bed. I squirmed, and his grasp moved from my left forearm to my left shoulder, right over the bullet, which made me reconsider.

My world spun for a second and I blacked out. Carver's hand moved closer to my neck, over the bruises he'd put there before. If I had been prepared, this wouldn't have been so bad, but I was in mid cry, and had only enough air to gasp for help.

Like the last time, help didn't show up. I squirmed out of Junkman's grasp and sat up. I was panting heavily, crying in pain with each breath. I could feel liquid crawl up from my stomach and before I could control anything, I threw it up down the front of my chest and into my lap. It wasn't food. Food had already passed that stage in digestion. The substance that coated my jeans and my bra was blood.

At this point, I didn't know what to do. Actually, I never knew what to do, but this time, I couldn't rely on dumb luck or Ranger. I was on my own. And whatever I did do, I needed to do rationally or I'd be dead with the flick of a trigger. I was released but not left in solitude. I cowered in the corner, proped up against the wall hugging my knees. The sobs came out in whispers and every muscle in my face hurt.

But not once did I close my eyes. I watched Carver. He had turned, and I almost thought he was going to leave. But he didn't. He stooped over and I heard him fumbling with a lock. I peeked around him, and saw a huge box. It looked like it had been stolen from a pirate, and keeping it closed was a rusted padlock. Junkman tested keys, one after another. Finally, the lock pulled open.

When I was being chased by Ramirez, I had nightmares like this. After Lula, there was no doubt that he could do this, and would. But, he hadn't. I shot him. Shot him, five rounds to the heart, with my Smith and Weston. I pawed around the back of my jeans, where I swore Ranger had tucked my gun in before. If I had it, it was usualy there or in my pocketbook. But its absence wasn't devastating. Lord only knew it was tucked in a cookie jar somewhere.

The box held all sorts of goodies. I counted four combat knives, a bloody pair of handcuffs, a high-quality whip. There were other things in there too, things I could never imagine being used on a human body. Everything looked like it had been well used.

I had the pukey feeling again, and braced myself for it. But it never came up. There wasn't anything to come up. I made a few croaking sounds, and Carver looked at me. "Which do you like better?"

On one hand, he had a lighter, pressed against a box of cigarettes, and in the other was the blood stained whip. I pused on the bed with my feet and climbed deeper into my corner. The way the wall cast it's shadow, a good portion of my torso was hidden from lit sight. Junkman set the toys down and pulled a flashlight. He fliped it on and pointed it at me. I closed my eyes and hid from the flouresent lighting. I heard it click off, and I senced that the room was dark.

With the exception of the lantern, it was dark. And the lantern was running low on oil. I stared up at the ceiling, blinking the spots out of my eyes. Now I knew why it was so cold. A barred window was about a foot from the ceiling. No way could I reach it, even with standing on the cot. I could see the stars over head.

"So, how long have I been missing?" I asked with a deep breath. My voice was shaky and hoarse.

Junkman pushed a button on his wrist watch and the green LCD lightened his face. He looked amuzed, in a crazy, pshycopathic way. "A little over 20 hours."

"Damn," I cursed under my breath, "Batman sould be here by now."

Junkman let out a howl and it bounced off the walls of the cave. "Batman's got himself tied in knots trying to find you."

I perked up. "What?" I was doing a fine impression of Minnie Mouse.

"Joe never told you?" Junkman's got happier, if it were even possible. "There's a dead body Steph. Ranger gun matches."

I was shaking my head. I knew Junkman could see me by the smile on his face. A wolf smile. Nothing like the one I'd get from Ranger, but one that if I wasn't mistaken, belonged to Satan himself. "Oh yes. Cops will find it soon enough, and then he'll be done. You want to see pictures?"

Before I could answer, pictures were fanned out infront of me. A young man, possibly in his early twenties was laying on the ground. His green eyes stared at me through the film, and between them was a .44 bullet hole. Then a photo of his hands. All ten fingers, severed at the knuckle. I knew Ranger often carried a .44 Glock.

But the severed fingers? Ranger killed. I faced that problem, accepted it, and moved on. But he never removed more than necessary. "Ranger doesn't cut people up." I said, swallowing the bile taste that came up and passed the photos back.

"Ahh, but he kills. Thats all the proof I need." Junkman's voice was almost on a buisness tone.

One used by Dickie, the few times I dealt with him on the job, before treats were issued.

"Proof?" I asked and moved my legs so that my right one wouldn't fall asleep.

"With the right evadence, you can make it look like anyone killed a person. Mr. Manoso's track record wasn't too clean. You date too easy of a target, Cupcake." Now Junkman was using the nickname.

"You're saying you killed Leroy and set Ranger up? And DON'T call me Cupcake." I put an edge on don't.

"Yes. All because of you, Ranger will be sencenced to the chair or life, which ever will be worse, knowing that he could have prevented your death."

None of this would have happened if I had gotten a job at the Tampon Factory. I cried at the thought, and I felt the wall scrape my good shoulder as I got even closer to the wall. A gust of wind blew through the window. The remaining flame on the candle was gone, and I was left in the dark with a floating green watchface. Then the green was gone, and I was in the dark.

My legs were wretched from underneath me. The flashlight was beamed into my eyes and I was momentarilly blinded. I was thrown against the wall, and I heard the click of the lock. Then I felt the metal close around my adjacent wrist. I was on the wall again. My feet dangled uselessly above the ground. The flashlight was discarded, its beam pointing to the wall.

I did see a shadow go over to the box. I did see the shadow pick up three knives, examine them, and toss them aside. They landed on the cot with a thump. I didn't miss the shadow select the fourth comando knife, deem it as good, and move towards me. The blade snaped out of the handle, and it glimmered in the little light there was. That's how I monitored Junkman. He made quick movements across the room, when he was close enough, tied a blindfold across my eyes and over my nose. His wrist brought the blade closer to my body. The blade stopped right below the middle of my bra. In the snap of his wrist, the blade tore the fabric, and the bra fell to the ground.

I was scared as hell. Who wouldn't be? I kicked my legs, not doing any damage at all. From the distance, I heard a truck pull up. The doors slammed shut, there were two. One after the other. There was some running that echoed through the dungeon, and then the sounds were gone.

I turned my head towards the window, right into a cold gust of wind. I put my head down, and caught a Carver's fist. I sputtered as blood began to roll out of the corner of my mouth.

There were gun shots in the hall. More than one gun. My hopes were high at this point. Two people. That ment that even if it wern't Ranger, Joe was back and he brought someone who could help me. "That has to be Ranger." I whipered desperatly

I felt the cold barrel of a gun settle on the bridge of my nose. "Him or not, you're dead."

I couldn't see anything at all. The cellar door banged open. "Drop the gun." The voice was familiar.

Not Ranger. Too deep to be Ranger. The gun was pulled away from my forehead, and carefully the blindfold was untied from around my head. Tank stood infront of me. If it weren't for the hallway lights, I'd have missed him completely. Junkman was out cold half on the bed, half on the floor.

Tank poped the handcuffs. No keys, just pop, and they were opened. I fell off the wall, stumbling when my feet hit the floor. Tank grabed my waist before I went down. He took off his jacked and wraped me in it. I had my head on his chest, and he had one arm around my back, his hand on my hip, to hold me up. Together, we stalked slowly down the hall and up the stairs.

"Where's...Ranger?" I managed to ask, trying not to cry.

When your saved, it's supposed to be by the big hero man. Not by his best friend.

"He's in trouble." Tank stopped infront of the black Bronco.

He hoisted me up into the front seat, buclked me in, and told me to go to sleep. Then he went back inside to go get Junkman. Morelli had just... dissapeared. No sign of him in the house. Minutes ticked away. I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was dead. I rolled my head against the window. Thats when I saw the smoke.

Smoke is never good. When I saw smoke, usually my car was involved. Once, it was my apartment, and on occation it was my toast in the toaster. I looked harder. The smoke was dark grey. Thick. Not good signs. It was comming out the window. I paniced, glancing left and right for Tank. Soon, he opened the metal door and cut across the grass. Smoke followed him out of the building. Junkman looked worse than before. He was knocked out, thrown over Tank's shoulder, but his leg was bent in a way it shouldn't have been.

He threw him in the seat behind me. Tank jumped into the drivers seat and hastilly rammed the keys in the egnition.

"Trouble?" I asked.

He stared at me for a second. Then at the building. He turned the key, but before the engine could catch, there was an explosion. Bits of wall were sent against the windshield, others through it. The bronco caught on fire too, the jerk bashing my forehead against the glass that had collected on the dash. Blood clouded the vision of my right eye, and I passed out.

Tank reacted quickly. He was trained that way. He grabed Stephanie and hauled her out of the truck. She lay there, her head in his lap. He brushed the glass out of her forehead and pressed his shirt against it. Ranger would kill him when he found out.

Stephanie was breathing well. Her pulse was strong. She would live to see another day. Tank had bigger problems, like how to get Ranger free of all charges.

Joe had left. He sent the call out, about finding the dead body. He framed Ranger. Took his gun the night he took Stephanie. Ranger would need a good lawer.


	16. Surviving

(Sorry, I took a short "holiday" break. Actually, I spent most of the time reading other fics and getting ideas, and I thought of a better one than I was already using, so I had to back track alittle. Hope it doesn't confuse anyone...

Esentrik)

I woke up to the droning noise of all the machines around me. Constant, loud, and annoying. I opened my eyes and looked around the room the best I could without moving my head. I was alone and the room was dark. There was a curtain partially pulled around the dinky little bed I was laying it.

I had three IV's in my arm. There was a tube down my throat and I could feel it. It didn't hurt, but I could feel it. Drugs were a miracle at this point. There was a button on the wall with a plate above it that read; "Push for nurse assistance"

Slowly, I broght my arm up from under the paper thin blanked that was wraped around my chest and over the bed guard rail. I pounded the button with all my strenght, and noticed the stitches incircling my wrist. I gingerly laid my arm across my stomach and in a few seconds, and Nurse popped her head into my room.

"Ahh, the bombshell bounty hunter, back in action." She commented and walked over to my bed. "What can I get for you dear."

"Ru rube" I managed to say.

"What? Oh, the tube." She said, and with one quick motion, she yanked out the tube.

"OUCH!" I yelled, surprised that I could talk now.

"Be gentle. She's tough, but she's no Ric." Tank commented as he came into the room.

"I can imagine..." The nurses voice trailed off, and she left.

"Bombshell, do you remember what happened?"

"I remember the explosion." I said wearily and closed my eyes.

"Anything before that?"

"What are you playing at Tank? I'm medicated and as stupid as a friggen rock."

Tank smiled and continued. "Ranger's convicted of murder. Did either of them say anything about that?"

I thought hard. "Yeah, Carver said they had framed them, I think. I did a lot of dreaming though."

"Ranger's in deep shit. No one can make bail for him, and he can't make it for himself. He's screwed until we can prove him innocent. Now, get some sleep and I'll see what I can do with what you said." Tank got up and pushed something on the wall above me. The beeping stopped.

On his way out he said, "Our only wittness was toasted. Great." and he shut off the lights.

I fell back asleep in a drug induced coma.

------------------------------------------------------

Tank went back to check on her one last time. Her forehead was taped shut over the stitches above her right eye. Everything else was battered and bruised with a few scrapes and what the doctors though was a bullet hole. Tank made a mental note to ask about that later.

From there, he b-lined it for the cop shop. Ranger was sitting with both feet on the floor and his head between his knees looking as vulernable as ever. He was silent, and if it weren't for the light in the hallway, you'd never know a soul was there.

"I have some good news, and some bad news." Tank said blankly when he got close enough to the bars.

Ranger turned his head to look at the door. Tank's shadow enveloped the tiny little cell. "What's the good news?"

"I found her, and she's doing fine in the ICU." Tank smiled a little, but Ranger returned a grimace.

"The bad?" Ranger had a happier edge to his tone, but he was still talking in a monotone.

"I can't spring you. The bails too high."

"Shit." Ranger stood up slowly and streached his stiffened muscles. "How is she?"

"Recovering."

"I need to know more than that."

"She might be the key to get you out of this mess. Junkman blabbed before he got torched."

Ranger couldn't hide a small grin. "Torched?"

"Bombshell blew the Bronco while Carver was caged inside."

"Well that sucks." Ranger sat down again.

"Listen man, I'm sorry..."

"Save it Tank. You tried, and that's good enough. Now, get your ass back to the hospital. If I can't be there, atleast someone should. I don't want her waking up alone."

"Yes Boss." Tank gave a two fingered salute and turned to leave.

-------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up to a darkened room. Again, I wasn't alone. I lifted my head off the pillow, and it hurt more now than it had the last time.

I shifted my arm under the pillow and felt something cold. I grasped it, and realized it was my gun. The intruder shifted in the chair and I could feel a shiver run down my spine. "Chill out," I told myself. "It's only Tank."

"Morning Cupcake." Shit! Not Tank.

I flipped the safety on the gun underneath the pillow, and managed to scoot myself in a position where I could use the gun. "USE THE GUN!" I mentally screamed. I was heavily medicated and had too much to deal with in the last few days.

"I know your awake. You're afraid of me?" He read my face like the back of a book.

"You locked me in a cellar for three days with bottom line food." I said hoarsly. My entire body hurt more than last time.

"That would be a good reason." I heard more shuffling, and then a cold hand began to rub my face.

That's when I pulled the gun. I had enough. Joe took a few steps back, and then laughed dryly. "You'd never shoot me. You can't even shoot a damn skip." He said, and he was laughing so hard he was close to tears.

How much did I really want to smack that smirk off his face? Mindlessly, I pulled the trigger. Joe jumped away, but not fast enough. The bullet tore through one of the ligiments of his hand. "What the hell was that!" Joe's voice was up an octive. Maybe because his hand was waving infront of his crotch.

It hurt to smile, but I did anyway. "Reflex."

"Fuck." He said and wrapped his hand in a towel and headed towards the door.

Tank's huge figure crowded the doorway, blocking any enterance or exit. The hall light cast a shadow over his face, but I could tell he was looking from the gun to the blood soaked towel. "Anyone mind filling in the pieces?"

"I need to get this looked at, and file an accident report." Joe said and shoved Tank far enough out of the way for him to get by.

"Bombshell, you ok?" Tank asked, and pulled away from the door. He closed it behind him, leaving us trapped in the darkness.

I nodded, and then realized he couldn't see me, so I answered, "For now."

"What the hell happened?" The blinds were pulled up, just enough to let in a little light. I could now completely see Tanks face, and part of me whished I couldn't.

"He was here when I woke up. So I shot him." I said.

Tank smiled, and his face lightened up. "Good job."

"He really pissed me off. First he had the nerve to be here, and then he asked if I were afraid of him. Then he started laughing like a hyena bacause, quote, 'You can't even shoot at a damn skip,' unquote. So I shot him."

Tank smiled even bigger. "Proud of you."

I carefully tucked the gun back under the pillow where I found it, and for the first time, I actually felt well enough to look around. The walls were insanely white with a flowery border. The curtains were paper-thin and white too, like the bed sheet. I was still caged in by bars on either side or me.

"Ranger's in deep shit." Tank said, just as a random statement.

"I know. I've been thinking about that. Where was I, anyway?" I shifted my position so that I was sitting upright.

"An old Motel on Comstock." Tank was looking at me strangely.

An old Motel. Ok, everytime I woke up, when I was in the "dungeon", they knew that I was awake. That would have to meen that there was a video system. And there was only one way to find out if they had taped it or not...

"Don't suppose I'm gonna get out of here anytime soon?" I asked.

"Shit. I hear gears grinding Bombshell." Tank sighed. "I dunno. They haven't said."

"They knew when I was awake. Everytime."

Realization hit Tank's face. "You're saying they possibly had a video camera?"

"Not possibility, Tank. I know they did."

"Only one way to find out." Tank stood up, and I was a little heart broken because I wasn't going along. "Cheer up Bombshell. Comstocks a dangerous place, and Ric would kill me if I took you. Nothing personal. Besides, you need your rest."

I scooted back onto the bed and Tank pulled the covers up to my shoulders. "Need anything Bombshell?"

"Something greasier than hospital food."

"I can swing for Pino's after all this is done."

"Thanks Tank!" I said and almost wanted to hug him. But that would have been too wierd.

"Yeah, that would have been wierd." Tank muttered. Great. He could do it too...


	17. Its on the Tape

I got a few awkward stares as I ran out to my truck. Nothing to be bothered by. I beebed the door open, and hastily buckled myself in. The truck roared towards Comstock.

Now was his chance. For two years, Ranger had been waiting for Joe to hurry up and finish up with Stephanie. Ranger was a patient man, I had to give that to him. And Steph hell, she is a smart kid. Joe was out of the picture. I could never imagine Bombshell letting him back in. She shot him, for God's sake.

Smart kid that she is, she just might be able to free Ranger. I swung around a corner, and saw the charred remains of the Bronco. We both had forgotten the building burned. A few forensics still hung around.

"Excuse me, sir, what do you think you're doing?" One of them asked.

"Thomas Greene, V.P. of Rangeman."

The cops nodded and let me rummage through the debris. "Mr. uh... Kingsley," I read off the name tag. "I don't suppose you found any tapes did you?"

"Tapes?" He asked, and climed over the charred wall to join me. "What kind of tape?"

"One that came out of a video camera or a VCR. I have a suspicion that something was said on a tape that just might free one man out of jail, and put the right man in it."

"Not sure how much of use it would be to you, but yeah, we have." Kingsley walked over to his unmarked truck and tossed me a plastic bag with a little cassette in it.

I turned the tape in the air, looking at every aspect of it. The edge was a little charred, and the inside was coated in a layer of ash. "Thank you Detective."

"Say, you would know anything about all of this would you?" Kingsley pointed to the building.

"I found Stephanie Pulm, brutalised and chained to a wall, here last night. Norman Carver _was _in the back of my Bronco, before it got charred. He didn't make it out."

"Anything else that might help us?"

"Other than the hospital report on Bombshell's wounds, not really. I was the rescue guy. In and out."

The detective dismissed me with a two-fingered hand wave, and crawled back into the soot.

That was easier than I thought it should have been. Judging by the size of the tape, there was probably one or two more. This might not have been the right tape. I called Bobby, and told him to get the video editing equipment to the door by the time I got there. I pulled up and rolled down the passenger window. He ambled over, and reached in with one hand and poped the door lock. He climed in and dumped the equipment in the middle seat.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" I asked him.

"If you're saving the world, so will I." He said, and turned up my radio.

Country muisc blared through the speakers, before Bobby quickly switched it to Rock. "How the hell do you listen to that crap?" He joked.

"I can actually hear what their saying." I said, and we both fell silent, listening to the screaming going on over the radio.

Pino's was out of the way from the trip from the office building to the hospital, but I believed Bombshell deserved it. "I was going to get Bombshell a sub, do you want anything?" I asked Bobby.

"Mushroom and Sausage Pizza. With the little peppers." He said.

"Deal, but you need to run over there and get a can of compressed air." I said and pointed across the street to the Walgreens.

"Compressed Air?" He questioned and I locked the car.

"Just go." I barked and pushed open the door to Pinos.

I placed out orders, and leaned against the conter waiting for them.

"Did you hear? Morelli shot himself in the hand. What kind of idiot shoots themself in the hand?" One cop said to another.

"He's a moron." The other one said back.

"Yeah. He just lost the best thing he had." I said under my breath, and took the pizza box and the bag with the sub.

Bobby was leaned against the car with a green bag hanging off his finger. I beeped the truck open from the curb. The drive over was silent, and Bobby stuffed all the video equipment in a duffle bag to carry inside. Nurses tended to have a no-no policy on things like that.

She was asleep when we piled in. I closed the door, and Bobby quickly went to work pluging in all the hardware. I looked at Stephanie. She was one hell of a woman. And Ranger would kill me if he caught me, so I quickly came back to the real world and begain to air dust the cassette.

Ash blew everywhere. Finally, once I was satisfied, I gave the tape to Bobby. He expertly placed it into video system, and the screen popped up. An excellent piece of machinery, I must say. Top of the line, like Ranger would settle for anything less.

Bobby began to play the tape. Carver slipped into her room. He unchained her and threw Bombshell onto the bed kicking and clawing her way free. I watched her give up. Then he lit a match, and a puff of smoke filtered through his teeth. "Can we get more sound?" I asked.

Bobby nodded, and with a few keystrokes the volume went up. Not lound enough for the entire ICU to hear, but loud enough for me to catch anything important. "Anything you'd like to brown bag to Ranger?" Carver asked.

Sick. "Go to hell." She called back to him.

"Been there, done that." He said, and pressed the blade of the knife into the palm of her hand.

I turned to sit down in the chair by Stephanie. I wasn't squeemish, but I could see the damages in the palm or her hand. I traced the "J", knowing full well what it stood for.

Bobby had paused the tape. "You ok?" He asked.

I looked at Bombshell again, and nodded. Nothing in the army had prepared me for this. "We don't really need to watch all this do we?" Bobby asked.

"The only way to free Ric."

"Tank, there's over 24 hours on this damn tape." Bobby punched some more keyes, and a little sound wave bar appeared. There were long periods of silence. I get what he was saying now.

"Anything with even a trace of noise gets played." I demanded.

Bobby highlighted one, from the beginning to the end, and hit the 1 button on his number pad. Carver advanced on Bombshell, who was asleep on the bed. They did some talking, none of which was important. He stabbed the bed, the knife too close for confort by Stephanie's ear. Joe had appeared too. Stephanie was bound, like a hog with a heavy rope, and she was begging for Ranger.

I closed my eyes. That was too much. Then it quieted. Bobby was back onto the wave screen.

"There's a dead body Steph. Ranger gun matches." Carver said.

"Bobby, rewind it for a second." I said, and Bobby rewound it. "Can you tape this onto a separate tape?"

"It's not too clear, Tank." He replied.

The fire had essentually melted the tape. The screen kept skipping, and lond breaks in the sound made it nearly impossible to understand. "I don't care. We need to keep a copy, and one needs to get Ric out of there. This is all the evidence we need."

I rewatched the scene from the point where Carver started his little speach to the moment I barged in. Bobby cleaned up a copy, and handed it to me.

"You save the world. Ric told me to stay here, and I'll already be in trouble for going and getting the tape." I said, and Bobby hauled ass out of the room with the tape.

I flipped out my cell and quickly dialed Ranger's lawer and arranged for him to get the tape and free Ranger. When I hung up, Bombshell started to stirr. I lifted the lid on the pizza box, which we had left untouched. I could hear Steph sniffing the air.

"It lives." I said quietly and pulled the food tray in front of her.

"Be nice." She grumbled and rearranged the sheets so she could sit up.

I placed the sub infront of her, and she hastilly picked it up and stuffed a good portion of it in her mouth. She chewed, and I started to smile. She looked like Rex. She finished her sub in no more than five minutes and began to eye my pizza. "What is that stuff?" She asked and picked a sausage off one of the slices.

"Mushroom and sausage, why?" I turned so that the pizza was relatively safe. Bobby still hadn't eaten.

"What is with you guys and vegetable crap. It's on EVERYTHING!" She rubbed her head with her hand.

"Ric's the health nut."

"But what's with the mushrooms?" She peeked into the box again, and shuttered.

"It's Bobby's pizza too."

She clearly hadn't been through MY pantry. I had every childrens cereal you could name, and from there up, anything and everything was loaded with sugar. I closed the box up and slid it under the bed. Nurses didn't like pizza in their hospitals. My cell phone began to ring in my pocket. I answered it, and didn't bother with the ID.

"Yo." I answered in Rangeman style

"HOW IS SHE?" I could tell that Ranger had been in a hurry to get out of there.

"Took you long enough." I muttered.

"Shut up." He said, and I could feel him smiling. "How the hell'd ya find the tape?"

"Ask Bombshell." I said, and handed Steph the phone.

"Yo." She answered. God, if she had to learn anything from Ric, why that?

"RANGER!" Her voice got all high and squeaky, and the smile on her face nearly broke her jaw.

"I know. I'm fine." Her smile was replaced buy the I'm-about-to-cry look, and I took the opportunity to need the bathroom. One thing worse than seeing a woman hurt is seeing them cry. The army taught us to leap from burning buildings, shoot people from yards away, but not how to get a woman to stop crying.

I took my time. I really didn't have to pee, so I just stood there with my ear against the door and listened in.

"Hurry up, ok?" I could hear the smile in her voice now, and felt it safe to venture back into the room.

She said her good-bye and closed the phone. She set it in her lap, and whiped her eye with the collar of the gown. "You ok?"

"I dunno. I don't ever cry. But I'm crying." She shighed.

"Blame it on the drugs." I tapped a finger on her head, and cleaned up what was left of the meatball sup wrappers.


	18. Kiss and Make up

Ranger was short-breathed when he rounded the corner into my room. I imagined him running up the some-odd amount of stairs to the ICU floor. Looking at him, I had the sudden urge to cry again. He nodded to Tank, and Tank left. Then from there, he took careful steps towards the bed. I was sitting up with my feet wrapped tightly with a blanket. You can't trust these hospital gowns.

He placed his hand on my foot, and kept waling foreward. His hand drug with each step. Up my thigh, and stopped on my stomach. That was just about the only part of my body that didn't hurt. I slid over just enough to give him an edge of the bed to sit on.

The silence was unerving. I didn't know exactly what to say. What could have been said?

"You eaten yet?" He asked.

Well, we had to start somewhere. "Tank already fed me."

"Good." Ranger chuckled and moved his hand from my stomach to my head, where he began to brush his thumb against my stitches.

I scooted over even more, and Ranger leaned back against the wall. I dropped my head onto his shoulder, like I could no longer hold it up. I never realized how much I missed the Ranger smell until it was gone, eh? The door opened, and I heard the nurse make a comment on how much I slept.

"When can she be discharged?" Ranger asked softly before she left.

"She's perfectly stable, so I don't see why if can't be today or tomorrow. You'll have to talk to a doctor though." She closed the door behind her.

I lifted my head, and Ranger cooed, "It's ok Babe. Get some sleep."

So I did.

He was still there when I woke up. I was now curled on his chest, confortably. He was snoozing too, and the shades were shut tight so I had no clue weither it was day or night.

"It's a quarter till four." Ranger grumbled.

"I really, really hate that." I said in a matching voice, raspy and sore from that damned tube.

"And that's my problem?" He asked sarcastically, fully awake now.

"Should be." I said, and nussled his chest.

He snaked his arm around my back and held it at my waist. Two grown human beings, on one teensy-weensy little hospital bed. Cute. He took a deep breath, and I could tell he was about to say something, but he didn't.

My stomach beat him to it. I hadn't eaten since earlier this afternoon.

"I thought you said Tank fed you." Ranger joked.

"He did. Fourteen hours ago. Meatball sub's only last so long." I said.

"I don't know why the doctors even bother..." He began. I had gotten the 'it'll kill you' lecture before, so I tuned him out.

"I wanna go home." I whined when I realised he had stopped talking.

"I know, Babe, I know." He said sofly. Cocky to lovey in 2.5 seconds. That must be a record. Wait... Ranger, lovey?

"You know Batman," I said slowly. "You haven't been yourself since you got here."

"Whad'ya mean?"

"You've been, like uh, how can I put this, caring. Like boyfriend caring."

"Loosing you can do that." He whispered.

"Ok, I'm confused now." I said, suddenly jerking up from his chest.

He claped his arm on my shoulder and pulled me back to him. "It was my fault babe. If I had done a better job at keeping you safe, Morelli would have never made it up the lattice."

"Ranger, none of that was your fault! You shouldn't have to be the one watching over me every moment of every day. I should take care of myself, and call you when I need help. I keep using you like a third leg." I insisted. "Besides, Joe always said I'm a walking disaster."

"Babe. Since when had it ever mattered what Joe said?" Ranger was asking a true question.

It took me a minute. "I guess... I guess it never has."

"Babe, if you think you're "using" me, you've got it backwards. You don't ever ask for protection. I always provide it. It's there weither you lik it or not." He gave me a protective hug, and use down-to-earth tones.

There was a long silence. "That makes me seem more like Joe than I'd like." Ranger finnally said.

"Huh?"

"Everytime you two fight its about safety, or me. Joe always wants to hole you up in a castle and toss the key. You'd never know it, but I can know where you are, any minute of the day."

"Ric?" Shit...he was scaring me!

"There's a sensor on the Buick, and all the Rangeman car's you have ever driven. One quick call, and I'll know where you're at. Yet, you get pissed at Joe, and not me." He did have a point there.

"You did it to protect me. Joe did it so he's still have a quick fuck after work." I was getting it now.

When Ranger had said that there was no attatchments, he ment it. We were still friends, and anything he did for me was just as a friend.

"You're being really open about all of this." I said and snuggled once more into his chest.

"I'm losing my mind." He said, and ended the conversation.

I could see light cracking under the blinds. Where did all the night go?


	19. EDITED MY STORY!

I have decided to change the last few chapters of Frozen in Time. I've been reading my reviews, and my friend forcing me to continue so I can write her a smut scene (yes, for you Sarah, eventually!) I needed to re-work the last few chapters.

For my sake, I separated the story out into to parts. The rest of the story will continue with "Light at the End." For anyone who read this long ago, you might want to re-read it and get familiar with my changes before moving on, because I have taken out some of the latest stuff.

I am really sorry, especially for posting that I would post, then never did.

Amidst of all this, I do plan to return to a normal writing schedule-thing.

Esentrik 


End file.
